The Guard
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: All Hermione could think about was Draco Malfoy. How could they ever work together? Would they kill one another before her mystery attacker could? Most importantly, though, she wondered - what was Harry thinking?
1. Chapter 1

Who's ready for a new story?! Believe it or not, I still own nothing.

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Chapter 1

Saturday night.

The last place Draco Malfoy wanted to be on a Saturday night was stationed outside Room 273 at St. Mungo's. He had been on his way home when he received a call about a disturbance in Diagon Alley. The Golden Quill, the alley's newest bookshop, had been vandalized and the owner injured. He'd arrived with backup long after the suspect fled, and found Hermione Granger, unconscious and bloody, near the cash register. While his team combed the store for evidence, he Apparated her to the hospital for treatment.

Now, he waited. Not for news on her condition, but a reprieve. He wanted to sleep, and sleep wasn't something he got standing guard. An hour passed before Harry Potter, his supervisor, arrived. Draco sneered when he arrived. "Good of you to show," he muttered. The pair, despite their years working together, didn't get along. Old school rivalries had not dissipated, and it ground Draco's gears that he had to report to Harry Potter.

Harry scowled, pushing dark brown locks away from his face. "Because I've been sitting on my arse this whole time," he quipped. "Has a healer been by? Do you know anything about Hermione's condition?"

The blond shook his head and pushed away from the wall. "Am I free to go?" he asked.

"Actually, no," Harry replied. "Aside from the report you still need to file, there's something Kingsley wants you to do. There, uh, letters were found at the shop. We think they're from whoever did this. Judging from the content of the letters, someone wants Hermione dead. Shacklebolt has decided you're to guard her, keep her safe."

"What? Why me?" Draco demanded.

Harry shrugged. "Hell if I know," he muttered. "You've done guard duty before and those people are still alive. I guess he figures you've got a good track record or something. Look, I don't care why he picked you. Just do your job and protect her."

Draco glared at him as he walked away, muttering under his breath, until he found a healer. Minutes later, Harry returned, and without a word, entered Hermione's room. "It's a concussion," the healer explained. "My guess is she hit her head somewhere behind the counter, if Mr. Malfoy's assessment is correct. She was unconscious when he brought her in, but she should be waking up soon."

"_Auror_ Malfoy," Draco muttered. "And I didn't say she hit her head. I said something hit her on the head. It was a mess around her."

"You think she was actually attacked," Harry said. The face Draco made said it all. "Okay, I'll send a team back to reexamine the store, test for any magical traces. You stay here with her."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Could I have a chair this time?" he requested, a facetious smile gracing his pale face. Pulling out his wand, Harry conjured a chair that knocked into Draco's knees. "You're a peach, Potter."

Half an hour went by before Hermione awoke. A strangled sob escaped her lips, alerting Draco to her recent development. Standing, he ran to the door and called for a healer. Returning to her side, he attempted to keep her in place. "Granger, you're alright," he said, his voice soft and soothing. "You're fine. Just be still."

When the healer arrived, he was asked to step out so Hermione could be examined. Draco stared at his pocketwatch, counting the seconds and minutes as they ticked by. Five minutes passed before he was allowed to reenter her room. Following a quick briefing on her condition, the healer left the room.

"Why are you here?" Hermione asked when they were alone. Scowling, Draco reclaimed his seat and told her he was now her bodyguard. "Why you?"

"Because Potter hates me?" he guessed.

The brunette frowned as she touched the sore bump on the back of her head. "Funny, I didn't know he hated me too," she joked. For the first time since arriving at the hospital, Draco smiled. "You really don't have to do this. Harry's a bit overprotective, but I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, clearly," he muttered, settling back in his seat. She glared at him, daring him to say more. It was a bait Draco willingly took. "All I'm saying is this is the, what, fourth time your shop's been broken into. They managed to knock you out without you getting off a spell, I reckon. But okay, you can handle this yourself."

Hermione shifted beneath the thin blankets, uncomfortable with the fact that Draco Malfoy was right. She dove behind the counter when she heard intruders, and seconds later, darkness claimed her. Though she didn't know what hit her head, she knew it was heavy enough to render her unconscious.

"They're discharging me at noon tomorrow," she informed him.

Draco nodded. "We'll stop by my flat to pick up a few of my belongings," he decided. "I really hope you have more than one bedroom. I don't sleep on sofas."

Brown eyes widened as Hermione sat up straighter. "You're not staying with me," she said defiantly.

Sighing, Draco leaned his head back and shut his eyes. "This isn't up for discussion," he stated. "I can't keep an eye on you if you're somewhere else. Potter's made it clear I'm to be with you at all times."

With a huff, she looked away, staring at the tree outside her hospital room window. She could allow Malfoy to stay in her flat, and it wouldn't be hard to slip away while he slept. "Just you?" she asked. "No backup?"

"I'm sure we won't be able to shake Potter," he mumbled, trying to fall asleep. "Who needs backup when you have the Chosen One?"

Turning back, she noted his closed eyes and even breathing. "Should you really be sleeping?" she inquired. "It wouldn't be hard for someone to come in and attack me right now. I'd hate to tell Harry that you failed your assignment ten minutes into it."

With an angry groan, he sat up and stared at her. "It's two in the morning," he said through clenched teeth. "I've saved your arse once tonight. No one's going to attack you here. Go to sleep."

Taken aback, she said nothing else and let him rest. Try as she might, she couldn't get comfortable and spent the next few minutes resituating herself before giving up. With a sigh, she stared at the ceiling, willing sleep to come. All she could think about was Draco Malfoy though. How could they ever work together? Would they kill one another before her mystery attacker could? Most importantly, though, she wondered - what was Harry thinking?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next day, Draco escorted Hermione home after a brief stop at his flat. "Be warned - mine is considerably smaller," she told him as they left his penthouse apartment. "The couch is comfortable though. Honestly, I cared more about that than anything else. Plenty of pillows and blankets, as well. It's the perfect spot to curl up with a book or a movie. Have you ever seen a movie?"

"Do you always ramble when you're nervous?" he inquired. Turning her head away, she nodded. "I'd be more nervous about whoever is breaking in than about the Auror sleeping on your sofa."

Sighing, she sat down and eyed him carefully. "How does this work?" she asked. "People will notice that we're in public together. How do we explain that?"

He leaned against the wall, standing opposite her. "I've only been assigned to this kind of detail once," he admitted. "I pretty much kept my distance as much as I could in public so I didn't draw attention to myself. It also helped that the person I was watching was basically a shut-in. It took a great deal of effort to leave the house at all. You, however, are going to be far more difficult to keep inside."

"That would be far more suspicious than us suddenly becoming friends," she pointed out. "You do work with Harry, after all. I don't know - maybe if people ask why we're together, that could be the excuse."

He shrugged. "Whatever," was his reply. Without a word, he set about upgrading her protective wards and adding a few of his own. She watched for only a minute before leaving him alone to work. Entering the kitchen, she made tea and stared at the counter. Before today, she never thought there was a possibility that someone was out to get her. Though her shop had been broken into before, nothing was ever taken and she'd never been hurt. One night turned her life upside down, and she wanted it to go back to normal.

With his task complete, Draco joined her. "I would have expected your wards to be better," he said. "Especially the ones on your shop. They were abysmal, Granger. Were you hoping for intruders?"

Turning to face him, she crossed her arms and glared at him. "What would happen if I reported you to Harry?" she wondered. "You're hostile, rude, and aside from enhancing a few wards, pretty useless. So, what do you think Harry will do when I complain?"

Draco scoffed and took a seat atop the counter. "I honestly could care less," he told her with a smirk. "Potter's always looking for some excuse to sack me. It's just a job. If I lose it, I lose it. No big deal."

Infuriated by his blase attitude and his rear end on her counter, Hermione pulled her wand and pointed it at him. "You really think I believe that?" she inquired. "The Malfoy family has fallen far. So far that the heir had to beg to be admitted into the Auror training program. This isn't a job, Malfoy. It's your livelihood. You really think you'll be able to afford that big, expensive penthouse without a salary? You lose this job, I'll be dropping spare change into your tip cup while you make an alley home."

"Or I'll visit you in Azkaban for assaulting an Auror," he retorted.

Her wand lowered, but only minutely. "Oh please. We both know you'd never visit me in prison," she replied. Laughing, Draco had to admit that she was right, though it was tempting to see her behind bars. Resheathing her wand, she sat down at the small table, her eyes never leaving him. "I'm tired."

"You're not supposed to sleep too much," he reminded her.

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "You're my Ministry-appointed bodyguard, not my nurse. I'm allowed to sleep, just not for very long. Wake me in half an hour, will you?"

He nodded and watched her go, giving her a one minute head start before he left the kitchen as well. After checking the time, he called Potter, hoping for an update. It didn't surprise him that his supervisor knew nothing. Without Hermione Granger's help, Harry Potter never knew anything. Cutting the call short, there was nothing to do but wait for Hermione to awaken. He took to perusing the knick-knacks and picture frames that decorated her living room - Potter, Weasleys, ceramic cats, glass owls. He wondered if she would notice if her dear friends were missing from the photos. It would require only a simple spell, and the anticipation of her discovery would provide him a great deal of entertainment.

Just as he raised his wand to do it, he heard her. Groaning, he turned to face her. "I thought you were sleeping," he commented.

Sighing tiredly, she sat down on the sofa. "I tried, but then I couldn't stop thinking about the concussion and the possibility of never waking up, and I might never sleep again," she replied.

"You look god awful," he told her, noting the dark bags beneath her eyes. "When was the last time you really slept?"

Resting her head on the arm of the couch, she shut her eyes for only a few seconds. "I don't know," she replied, half mumbled. "How long has it been since the war?"

Draco frowned. The Battle of Hogwarts, the downfall of Voldemort, and the events leading up to it were subjects he avoided at all costs. He'd spent the last half decade proving to the wizarding world that he wasn't a Death Eater, that he wasn't a bad guy. The nightmares came every night, and the passing years did little to quell the terror he felt.

"Has it occurred to you that there are potions that will help you sleep?" he asked, not wanting to discuss the war with the witch who bled in his family's home. "Or do you enjoy masochism?"

Rolling her eyes, she sat up. "Sorry for trying to talk to you like a normal person," she muttered, standing and walking past him. "I'll be downstairs in the shop if you need me."

He followed her to the door and left with her. Hermione huffed when she realized that he would be joining her. "I can't leave you alone," he reminded her. She continued to mutter under her breath until they reached her office. "I'm in for a fun afternoon, aren't I?"

Scowling, she sat down and ignored him, allowing work to distract her. There was inventory and an insurance report that needed to be filed before she could clean up her shop. "How does it look in there?" she asked, eyes trained on the inventory list in front of her.

"It's a mess," he told her. "They don't think anything was taken. The register was empty, but Potter said you empty it every night after closing. It's just books on the floor, some pages strewn about. My question is - what were you doing down there that late at night?"

A light blush colored her cheeks. "Sometimes when I can't sleep, I go downstairs and get a book," she replied. Draco smirked. "What? We sell used books here all the time."

"Don't you have enough upstairs?" he asked. "The reason you gave me for having to sleep on the couch is that you turned the extra room into a library. You really think it's necessary to pilfer from your store?"

"I've read them all," she replied, going back to her work. "If you're nice to me, I'll extend you the same courtesy. Purebloods learn how to read, right?"

Chuckling, he sat down across from her and propped his feet up on the desk. "I didn't know muggleborns could be so witty," he retorted.

She looked up briefly and frowned. "There's a lot you don't know about muggleborns."

"Maybe you'll teach me something then," he replied, finally earning a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Must be hell," Ron Weasley commented.

Sundays were the days spent with the Weasley family. From breakfast until long after dessert, Hermione was surrounded by the loud, loving, redhaired family who'd become something of a surrogate family to her. It was only days after the incident in her shop that she was there, doted on by Molly Weasley, forced to endure rants from Ron, and suggestions from George Weasley, the resident prankster, on how to deal with Malfoy.

"Honestly, he's not that bad," Hermione said, having repeated the phrase several times.

Ron shrugged. "I don't understand why they assigned Malfoy when it would have been just as easy for Harry or me to stay with you," he replied.

"He has prior experience," she explained. "Besides, your specialty is being out in the field, as is Harry's. Personal security happens to be Malfoy's area of expertise. Just let it go, Ron. As soon as you catch whoever it is that's been breaking into my shop and sending threatening letters and rendering me unconscious, Malfoy goes away and I never have to deal with him again."

Smiling, he put his arm around her shoulders. "No pressure though, right?" he teased.

"Lots and lots of pressure," she told him as he escorted her to the backyard for lunch. "He's not exactly the ideal roommate. Though he can cook. Odd, isn't it?"

Chuckling, he agreed with her. "Didn't think he knew what a kitchen was," he added.

Despite their failed relationship, the pair remained friends. It had been short-lived, ending only months after their first kiss. It didn't take long for them to realize they were wrong for each other, and mutually decided that their fate was to be friends.

"So, where is the ferret today?" Ginny inquired, sitting down across from them at the picnic table.

Hermione scowled. She had never approved of the nickname nor the way Draco received it. "Visiting his mother," she informed the younger witch. "They're quite close. She actually extended an invitation to me, but I already planned to be here."

Dubious red eyebrows rose. "Narcissa Malfoy? The purebloodiest pureblood on the planet invited you to her house?" Ginny asked incredulously.

Shrugging, Hermione turned her attention away from the youngest Weasley. "So, is there any news on my case?" she asked Ron. "Any leads? Clues? Guesses? Wild speculations?"

A frown tugged down the corners of Ron's lips as he shook his head. "I wish I could tell you something, but we've got nothing," he admitted. "Harry's team has been going over what little evidence they found. Even those notes are a dead end. We've compared them to handwriting samples we keep at the Ministry, but there's been no match."

Her shoulders sagged. "So you're saying I could be stuck with Malfoy for awhile then?" she asked.

Ron seemed to be just as dejected as she was. "Let me talk to Harry," he suggested. "We'll try to convince Kingsley to put someone else on guard duty. Maybe it'll be someone you don't hate."

But Hermione declined the offer. Draco, whether it was just big talk or not, often alluded to the fact that one screw up and Harry would report him to the Minister of Magic. The pair never got along, and she knew Harry had no qualms about getting rid of Draco. It was evident to her that he had worked hard for his career, and she refused to jeopardize it. "We'll be fine," she assured him.

Later that night, Ron accompanied her home, intent on checking in on Draco Malfoy. "Mother sent me home with food," Draco announced at the sound of the floo.

"Funny, so did mine," Ron retorted.

Draco finally looked up from his book, shut it, and set it aside. "I was not expecting you to bring your boyfriend," he commented. "I'll be in the library."

"Ron was just escorting me home," Hermione explained. "Though, I don't know what could have happened in the floo."

Standing, the blond stretched to his full height, a mere inch taller than Ron. "Well, she's safe," he replied. "Have a good night."

Scowling, Ron stepped into the fireplace and returned to the Burrow. Alone, Hermione stood before him, arms crossed, and a frown on her lips. "Was that necessary?" she inquired. "Do you feel better about yourself for making him mad?"

With a proud smirk, he nodded and sat back down. "Here's what I don't understand," he started, picking up his book once more. "You and the weasel are a couple, but Shacklebolt, in his ever so infinite wisdom, assigns me as your security. Why is that?"

Brows furrowed, Hermione sat down at the opposite end of the sofa. "Where did you get that idea?" she wondered. "Our relationship ended about three months after the war, which was three months too long. If you're so miserable, say something to Kingsley. Believe me - this situation isn't ideal for me either. If my life's on the line, I'd rather have someone around who actually cares whether I live or die."

"What makes you think I don't care about that?" Draco wondered. In return, he received a contemptuous look. He had, in the past, wished death on her on more than one occasion. "Okay, fine, so I have a history. That doesn't mean I want you dead now."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood. "Right, because it would be bad for your career," she retorted before walking out of the room.

With a huff, he waited a few moments, then followed her to her bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and squeaked as he pushed it open. "You're right," he told her as she scowled. "It would be terrible for my career if I failed. Potter would have me fired. Given my past, no one in the Auror department really wants me around. So, yes, keeping you safe would boost my image at work. But if you think that's all I care about, you're dead wrong, Granger."

He turned to leave, slowly walking out of the room when he heard her footsteps behind him and then the feel of her hand on his wrist. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice soft.

Sighing, he kept his back to her as he spoke. "Everything we've been through - I'm tired of death," he informed her stoically. "Keeping you alive means one less lost life on my conscience. You should know by now that my motives are always selfish."

"That doesn't seem so selfish to me," she replied, letting him go. "I'm sorry I got so angry. I should know by now that you and Ron will never get along."

A small smirk graced his lips as he turned to face her. "Yes, brightest witch of our age, you should know that," he said, his tone light and teasing before allowing it to turn solemn once more. "Maybe it would be better if Weasley and I are kept at a distance. He's your friend, and I'm someone you're stuck with for now. Maybe to keep the peace, we shouldn't be around one another."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I think that would be for the best."


	4. Chapter 4

It's the start of a long weekend! I can't wait to sleep in, or have the cats wake me up at 6:30. The latter is more likely to actually happen.

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Chapter 4

Draco's days were spent watching Hermione work, and it bored him to tears. She chatted with customers, completed sales, restocked shelves, and occasionally returned to her office for paperwork. He stationed himself in a comfortable armchair near the counter, pretending to read, but really keeping a close eye on her.

It unnerved Hermione to have those gray eyes on her at all times. It was only when they returned to her flat after the shop was closed that he stopped staring at her. Most nights, Draco did the cooking and they ate in front of the television. It had been weeks since the last break in, and with no new developments, the pair settled into a comfortable routine.

"Spaghetti again?" Hermione asked, nose wrinkled as she towel dried her hair, wet from the shower.

Rolling his eyes, he carried two plates to the living room and set them down on the coffee table. "It's angel hair. There's a difference," he retorted.

"Yeah, the name," she muttered, sitting down beside him. "It's just a slightly thinner noodle. Both make a mess, especially with the way you slurp. I'm still trying to get the sauce stains out of your white shirt. Which reminds me - go change first. Put on something red."

He did as he was told, recalling just how many stains he'd gotten on the white button-down he'd worn the last time they had this meal. Within minutes, he returned, dressed in a red t-shirt. Hermione grinned, delighted that he did as she requested. He reclaimed his seat beside her, picked up his plate, and focused on the TV screen. An hour into the movie, he felt a head rest on his shoulder. Glancing down, he noticed that Hermione had fallen asleep. He sat as still as possible, fearful of waking her. Most nights, he could hear her toss and turn, whimper and cry as she battled her nightmares. She could do with a bit of uninterrupted rest.

When the movie ended, he slowly extricated the remote from her hand. He had mastered the art of pressing the buttons until he found the local news. It was the same thing every night - robbery, economic troubles, traffic accident, bad weather. But none of it was happening in his world, and for that he could stomach watching it. He, too, began to drift off until he saw an odd sight on the screen. Behind the reporter stood two greasy looking men dressed in black cloaks. Muggles didn't dress that way. Quickly, he shook Hermione awake.

"Recognize them?" he asked.

Hermione sat up and blinked rapidly. Silently, after several seconds of concentration, she nodded. "The Lestrange brothers," she murmured. "What are they doing in London?"

Sighing, he dug the heel of his hand into his right eye. "My guess - making their way to Diagon Alley," he replied.

"You really think they're the ones breaking in?" she wondered. "Why would they do that?"

"Because my deranged aunt wanted you dead," he suggested. "Rodolphus followed her blindly, and Rabastan was always his little puppy dog. If big brother says kill the mudblood, he'll do it."

Hermione flinched, then heard his soft apology. "They're Death Eaters," she said softly. "How have they not been caught yet?"

Shaking his head, he shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes glued to the screen. "I honestly don't know," he replied. "Polyjuice, Disillusionment charms, invisibility cloak? All are possibilities. I promise you this, though - they'll be caught before they have a chance to break in again."

Standing, her shoulders tense, she looked at him resolutely. "They don't scare me," she declared, holding her head high.

Draco smirked as she cleared their dinner plates. "You haven't seen the things they've done," he told her. "You may be smarter than them, but they're vile and ruthless killers. They don't care that Unforgivables are illegal. You got lucky that they didn't spot you behind the counter. Who knows what tortures they would have inflicted before finally finishing you off."

She nodded slightly before leaving the living room. When he was alone, he moved to the fireplace, tossed a handful of powder into the hearth, and contacted his boss. "Potter, Lestranges spotted in muggle London," he stated. "I think they're headed our way. I might need backup tonight."

"You've got a team of four on the way," Harry reported. "Keep her safe, Malfoy."

"I will," Draco replied before disconnecting the call.

Hermione returned as he pulled his head from the hearth. "What's going on?" she inquired, noting how uncharacteristically frazzled he looked. He laid out the plan - backup would be stationed both inside and outside the shop, and they would stay in her flat. "Honestly, Draco, I really don't think they're the problem you make them out to be."

He rose to his full height, towering over her as he crossed his arms. "I know them, you don't," he stated through clenched teeth. "This is the plan and there's no diverging. You'll stay here, the Aurors will guard the shop, and I'll guard you. End of discussion."

With a huff, she sat down and stared at him as he enhanced the wards around her flat. When he finished, he stationed himself by the front window. "You're making me nervous," she said. "Couldn't you sit? If there are Aurors downstairs, you don't need to stand in the window. If the Lestrange brothers even show, they'll get to them before you can."

Draco scowled, glanced out the window once more, then moved away from it. Perched on the edge of the sofa, he scowled when Hermione chuckled. "This is serious," he said tersely. "You could try not making a joke of it. It's your life on the line, remember?"

"And yet I'm not nearly as worried as you are," she commented.

"Yes, why is that?" he inquired, turning his head just enough to look at her.

Shrugging, she played with the television remote. "Because you won't do anything to risk your career," she replied. "And that means you're not going to let anyone hurt me. It's why you called Harry right away without any proof that Rodolphus or Rabastan are coming here."

Shaking his head, he returned to the window. "What if they do show up?" he wondered.

Rising from the sofa, she joined him. "I know you'll protect me," she said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "And I also know you're not just doing it because of your career. You're not a cold, insensitive git anymore. In fact, I'd say you're beginning to consider me a friend."

Draco smirked and lowered his wand. "My father would disown me if I did that," he informed her. Her hand left his shoulder as she took a step back. "Besides, I try not to make it a habit of getting attached to my charges."

"Makes sense," she mumbled before excusing herself. Locking herself in the bathroom, she leaned against the door. "Cold, insensitive git," she said before taking a long hot shower.


	5. Chapter 5

Yesterday was sandals and dresses, no cardigan weather. Today it's winter again. I would appreciate it if Mother Nature would make up her mind!

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Chapter 5

Ron fumed as he stood outside Hermione's shop. No one had come or gone in the last hour, and he was growing tired and angry. "That's it," he declared when there was no imminent threat. "Everyone go home. This was a waste of time."

Entering the shop, he made his way to the storeroom and then took the stairs that led to Hermione's flat. He took them two at time and entered flat without knocking. Draco was by the door, and Ron now had a wand at his throat. "What the hell are you doing here?" the blond demanded.

Ron's wand poked Draco in the stomach. "Lower your wand, Malfoy," he said through clenched teeth. "There's no threat out there."

"And I should believe you?" Draco asked, scoffing.

"The both of you - lower your wands," Hermione chastised. The pair did as they were told. "What are you doing here, Ron?"

The redhead frowned as he pushed past Draco to hug her. "Just wanted to check that you're alright before I go home," he told her. "Looks like Malfoy, once again, overreacted."

Hermione frowned as she pulled away from him. "Wouldn't it be worse if they had shown up and he did nothing?" she inquired. "Here I thought my safety was a priority. So sorry to be mistaken. Feel free to go home as well, Draco. I'm sure you've missed the comforts of your own bed."

Draco stood tall, arms crossed, and angry as he stared at Ron. "I'm not going anywhere," he declared. "Have a nice night, Weasel."

Try as he might, Ron was unable to convince Hermione to come back to the Burrow with him. Realizing his efforts were futile, he returned home. With a sigh, she apologized to Draco for her friend's rudeness. "Do you really think we have nothing to worry about?" she asked.

"I don't know," Draco admitted, finally sitting down. "You should sleep though. It's late."

Scoffing, she sat down beside him. "You really think I can sleep now?" she asked. "Want to watch _Dirty Dancing_ again?"

Chuckling, he moved the remote out of her reach. "No more dancing, dirty or otherwise," he replied. "Go to bed."

Rolling her eyes, she left the living room. Now alone, he stretched out on the sofa and shut his eyes. His wand in hand he began to drift off as he heard Hermione call for him. Groaning, he rolled off the sofa and slowly walked to her room. Her face was pale and her hands shook. "This just came," she said, handing him a letter.

He took the note and his eyes quickly scanned the few short lines. "Thought you could thwart me?" he read aloud. "Just wait. I will be back." Carefully, he folded it and tucked it in his pocket. "It's not the Lestranges."

"How can you tell?" she wondered.

"The brothers always work together," he explained. "They wouldn't use singular pronouns. They're not smart enough to do this to confuse us. It has to be someone else."

Hermione sat at the foot of the bed. "Another Death Eater?" she suggested. "How many of them wanted me dead?"

"You're muggleborn - all of them," he answered. "I wouldn't even rule out my own father. The war may have changed certain aspects of his personality, but his beliefs held fast. My mother would probably kill him herself if he landed in Azkaban again though, so maybe I _can_ rule him out."

Frowning, she moved back until she reached the headboard. "Would you mind staying in here for a bit?" she requested. "Just until I fall asleep?"

Draco nodded and moved the rocking chair closer to her bed. She settled herself beneath the blankets, rolled onto her side away from him, and soon she was asleep. Despite the thoughts invading his mind, exhaustion took over, and he was fast asleep as well.

The next morning, he awoke to a stiff neck and back pain. Easing himself out of the rocker, he stretched and winced. The bed was made, and the smell of breakfast permeated the flat. "So, you do know how to use this room," he quipped, entering the kitchen.

"Just sit," she replied with a chuckle. She placed two plates of bacon and eggs on the table and joined him. "Thank you for staying with me last night. After that note came, I just kept picturing some cloaked, hooded Death Eater climbing in my bedroom window. The brave Gryffindor can't even sleep alone."

Draco picked up his fork, ready to eat, but put it back down. "Just because you're a Gryffindor, that doesn't mean you're not allowed to be scared," he told her. "I'd be huddled in the corner crying if someone were threatening my life. Hell, I _have_ been huddled in a corner crying because someone threatened my life. I've also cried in bathrooms, the restricted section of the Hogwarts library, and the back of my mother's closet. Of course, I've always had a reputation for being a coward, which I've just completely validated for you."

"You had a lot of good reasons to be afraid," she said. "Being around Vol," Draco winced, "You Know Who sounds terrifying. I think you're brave for living through it."

Smiling, he picked up his fork once more, and began to eat. "Thanks, Granger," he replied. Minutes passed in silence as the pair ate. "I, um, I was thinking of going to the manor today to talk to my father. Would you like to come? My mother really is interested in meeting you, but if you don't want to meet her, you could see the library. It's bigger than the one at Hogwarts."

"Won't your father mind?" she wondered. "You did say last night that he might be out to kill me. Isn't it better to not deliver me right to him?"

"You'll recall I also talked myself out of that notion," he reminded her, grabbing a strip of bacon from her plate. "I don't know a lot of the Death Eaters. There were a good number who never came to our home. Lucius might have answers though. You could always spend the day with the Weasleys if you're not comfortable coming with me."

Pushing away her plate, half of which had been eaten by Draco, Hermione sat back in her chair and sulked. "I'm tired of being treated like I need a babysitter," she muttered.

"Yes, pouting really helps your argument," he teased. "Is it really so terrible having me around? I thought we were getting along, or at least as well as two people who've always hated one another can get along. You really see me as the nanny?"

Hermione couldn't hide a grin. "You cook for me, you slept by my bed when I was afraid, you've done my laundry. Yes, Draco Malfoy, you're the nanny," she retorted.

"Then what I say goes," he declared. "You're coming with me to Malfoy Manor today."


	6. Chapter 6

It's Friday, it's payday. Those are reasons to make it a good day. Two meetings back to back about the same thing? That kinda ruins everything. Plus, we're supposed to have thunderstorms just around the time I leave work.

* * *

Chapter 6

Hermione clung to Draco's arm as he led her through Malfoy Manor to the library. She could only associate the place with torture and cruelty, death and destruction. It wasn't a home. It was the stuff of nightmares. Her hands grew clammy and her heart pounded, but Draco seemed not to notice.

"Believe it or not, Mother insisted on a section for classic muggle literature," Draco said, giving her a brief tour of the library. "Someone from school gave her a Jane Austen novel, and she's been obsessed ever since. Have you read her work?"

Wide-eyed, she looked around the vast room that housed the Malfoys' personal collection. An imperceptible nod was her only reply as she pulled away from him. "This is incredible," she murmured, tracing her fingers lovingly over the spines of several leather bound books.

He followed, maintaining a five foot distance, and grinned as she surveyed the titles. "Think you'll be okay here alone?" he asked. Too distracted, she gave a half nod and continued browsing. "I'll be one floor down. You have your wand? Just send me a patronus if you need anything."

Again, she nodded, but paid him no attention. Chuckling softly, he turned on his heel and left the library for his father's study. With a knock, he entered and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey. "Still on Granger detail?" Lucius Malfoy inquired, not looking up from the papers scattered across his desk.

Draco nodded and took a seat across from his father. "With no end in sight," he muttered, draining the contents of his glass in one sip. "The Aurors are of little help. Why anyone trusts Potter to accomplish anything is beyond me."

"He is the savior of the wizarding world," Lucius reminded him, smirking as his only child rolled his eyes. "Is she what you came to talk about?"

Sighing, Draco rose and refilled his glass. "She is. I think it's a rogue Death Eater," he explained. He had already ruled out the Lestrange brothers, but had no new leads. "I just...I have no idea who's still out there, or what motive someone might have."

The older man snorted. "Really, Draco? You can't imagine any motive?" he asked incredulously. "Her blood status, for one. Two, her alliance with Potter."

"No one's going after Potter or the Weasley," the young Malfoy interrupted. "So, why her? Blood status shouldn't matter. There has to be another reason."

Clearing his throat, Lucius began to straighten up his desk. "I wish I could help, but I've severed all ties with that life," he stated.

Setting down his glass, Draco stared at his father. "So, you're not going to help," he muttered. "Big surprise. Sorry I wasted your time."

Draco was to the door when Lucius spoke. "I will...find out what I can," he promised. "If you're leaving, please see your mother before you go."

Returning to the library, he spotted Hermione with an armful of books and a frown on her face. "That was quick," she commented. "Do we have to leave?"

He took the books from her and set them down by the sofa. "I'll go say hello to my mother. That'll take longer," he said. "I'm sure she won't object to you taking these home."

Hermione followed him as he began to leave once more. "Wait, what did your father say?" she asked.

Draco stopped by the door and hung his head briefly before turning to face her. "I think he's a dead end," he said regretfully. "I'm sorry."

She attempted a smile and gave his wrist a comforting squeeze. "There's no reason to apologize," she told him. "We'll figure it out eventually."

"Optimist," he muttered before leaving.

Alone again, she returned to the shelves. Minutes passed before the door opened again. "Checking up on me so soon?" she asked, keeping her back to the door. "Really, Draco, I was only joking about you being the nanny. You don't have to act like one."

"Well, this old man appreciates being mistaken for his son," Lucius drawled. Gasping, Hermione dropped the book she had been holding and turned to face the new arrival. "You have nothing to fear. I have no intentions of harming you."

Clutching her wand, which was carefully hidden up her sleeve, she asked, "Then what do you want?"

Shrugging, Lucius picked up a book on advanced potion making. "To chat," he said casually. She looked skeptical and a bit cagey, and his advancing form did little to abate her nerves. "My son seems quite taken with you. Have you noticed this?"

"I'm just an assignment," she stated. "Being my friend is just a cover. Trust me - we can't stand each other."

Platinum blond brows rose. "Think what you will," he murmured, selecting another book from the stack. "He's not to be trusted, you know. He always had a knack for breaking girls' hearts. Poor Pansy Parkinson was devastated that he never paid her the attention she so desperately sought. Draco enjoyed toying with her."

"I don't anticipate having the same problem," she quipped. "I'm a mudblood, remember? And speaking of my blood status, how is it you've managed to stay in my company so long without feeling the need for a long bath?"

Chuckling, the old man got to his feet. "I know when I'm not wanted," he replied. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other soon, Miss Granger."

Draco returned as his father left, and he frowned as they crossed paths. Grabbing the older man's arm, Draco pulled him aside. "What did you say to her?" he demanded. Despite Lucius's attempts to feign innocence, the younger Malfoy knew better. "You stay away from her. Keep in mind you're still on probation, and have another five years to go. Imagine what'll happen to you if I report some misdeed to Potter. It'll be the end of you, Father."

"And I'll remind you that if you want to keep your little sweetheart safe, you need me," Lucius retorted, wresting his arm out of his son's grasp.

Entering the library, he picked up the books and walked to the fireplace. "Let's go," he said angrily. Without a word, she followed him into the floo. When they returned to her flat, he dumped the books on the floor and grabbed her. "What did he say to you? What did he do?"

If Hermione feared him, there was no way for him to know. "He said you'd break my heart," she replied stoically. "To which I replied that that wasn't something I needed to worry about."

He let her go and began to pick up the books. "I was afraid he threatened you," he mumbled. "I'm sorry for leaving you alone."

Shrugging, she bent down and took the books from him. "Don't be," she said, her words clipped. With the tomes tucked safely in her arms, she adjourned to her bedroom. With walls and doors separating them, the two spent the evening alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Hermione awoke to silence. Noting the early hour, she quietly made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower before going down to the shop. Draco remained asleep, his left arm and leg hanging off the sofa as a pillow covered his face. She slipped out the front door, fearful that he might wake and stop her. Any place but the flat was off limits without her guard, but Hermione needed space.

The sun had only just risen, and her office was silent. Sitting down, she breathed a sigh of relief that she had managed to escape Malfoy's ever watchful eye. With a little peace, she could get her work done before the day truly began. But the peace was quickly shattered by the sound of angry, stomping feet coming down the stairs.

Draco appeared, sleepy and disheveled, with his wand extended. "What the hell, Granger?" he demanded, relieve to see that there was nothing amiss. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Didn't know I was your alarm clock," she mused, eyes trained on the inventory report in front of her. He glared at her, though said nothing as he continued into the shop to make sure they were in the clear. Sure that there was no immediate threat, he returned to the office and sat down across from her. "What are the chances this whole break in, threaten my life thing was concocted by you in an attempt to get closer to me?" she inquired.

The blond scowled. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he muttered.

"Your father said you were interested in me," she shared. "How do I know that this whole situation isn't your way of being with me?"

"Because he's a crazy old fool who has no idea what he's talking about," Draco retorted. "The only feelings I have for you are those of loathing. I have no desire to be holed up with you in a tiny flat, listening to you ramble on and on. This theory has to be the most inane drivel I've ever heard come from your mouth."

Taken aback by his hostility, she set down her quill and looked at him. "I was joking, Draco. Calm down," she said, her voice soft. "I didn't mean to rile you. I'm sorry."

Releasing a breath, he stood and walked to the stairs. "I'm making breakfast," he said in lieu of accepting her apology. "Are pancakes are okay?"

Hermione nodded and continued to work until he called her up to eat. She was hesitant to join him, fearful that his temper was still high. They didn't speak as they ate. In fact, they spent the majority of the day not talking. It was an easier task to accomplish while she worked, but when the shop closed for the night, she knew it would be difficult to avoid Draco.

"So, on a scale from one to ten, how mad are you?" she asked, watching him cook dinner.

Draco slowly and methodically stirred the pasta. "I'm not mad," he insisted. "I wouldn't eat this meal if I were you, though."

Hermione laughed softly. "You can't poison me," she told him. "You'd have to go back to work if I wasn't around. Being with me is like having a holiday."

Shutting off the stove, he drained the water and handed her the colander full of rigatoni. "Table," he instructed. "And my, do you think highly of yourself. A holiday?"

With a shrug of her shoulders, she ate a noodle and sat down. "I've been around you too long," she teased. There was an evident frown on his face as he joined her. "So, am I forgiven? Can we go back to whatever we were before this morning?"

"And what was that?" he inquired, ladeling sauce over her pasta. Resting her elbows on the table, she looked at him, unsure how to answer. "Look, um, I didn't mean what I said this morning. I don't hate you, although the hair you leave in the tub annoys me to no end. I was scared when I didn't see you, and sometimes my anger gets the better of me. The wards would have alerted me if someone else was down there, I know that, but I was still afraid."

Reaching across the table, she placed her hand over his. In the month since they began living together, Hermione had never seen him look so vulnerable. It confused her. Did he really care for her, or was he just doing his job? Deciding that was a question to ponder at another time, she pulled away her hand and sat back. "So, do we agree to forgive each other for last night and this morning?" she asked.

"Promise not to sneak off again?" he inquired.

Smirking, she shook her head. "I can't make a promise I might not keep," she admitted. "I will make a concerted effort to try not to sneak off though. Honestly, it's been a long time since someone's cared what I get up to. Which isn't to say that you care, but I guess you do since I'm a job, and-"

"And you're rambling again," Draco interrupted. Immediately, Hermione stopped talking and blushed. "I can live with you making an effort."

Smiling, a truce was made, and Hermione was glad to be on good terms with her bodyguard once again. After dinner, Draco suggested a walk around Diagon Alley as the sun went down and the temperature lowered. She readily agreed, and soon they were amidst the crowds in the shopping center. Either he didn't notice or didn't care, but Draco said nothing as Hermione held onto his arm as they walked. He was tense, suspicious of all who passed them by. When he noticed that the ice cream shop was practically empty, he suggested going in.

"Seems odd, doesn't it?" Hermione asked as they sat down. "We're the only ones here. Are we the only ones who share the belief that ice cream is best on a chilly night?"

He handed her a cup of mint chocolate chip, receiving a smile that he knew her favorite flavor. "Yes, no one else seems to be as crazy as we are," he agreed. "I don't know, I think it's nice. Better than being crowded. Being surrounded like that makes me nervous."

Hermione nodded. It wasn't a fear for her safety, but rather his own memories of the war that lent themselves to his anxiety. It was a fear she understood well, and one she would never dare to insult him for feeling. "I miss the days when life was easy," she lamented.

"When was life easy?" Draco wondered, chuckling. "At least you got to be a muggle. Narcissa and Lucius always made life difficult. Being on my own now, I feel a little more normal though."

"Protecting me is normal?" she asked.

He dipped his spoon in her ice cream. "No," he conceded, earning a laugh from the witch seated across from him. "It's hard to describe. I just...being at your place feels normal. It's what a home is supposed to feel like. I don't know, maybe I'm coming around to you, Granger."

She stared at him, eyes wide with skepticism and wonder. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she commented.

Nodding, he turned his attention to the passersby. An unknown man, dressed in rags and his face covered in dirt, raised his wand and pointed it at the window. "Hermione, get down," he instructed, grabbing her hand to pull her under the table. The front window shattered, but Hermione was safe.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The assailant had been apprehended and whisked off to the Ministry of Magic for questioning. Draco escorted a shaken Hermione home, where Harry met them. He tried to speak, tried to ask if she was alright, but Draco shook his head as he led her to the bedroom. "You okay?" he asked softly as she sat down.

"Harry's going to be mad," she murmured, holding his hand to prevent him from leaving.

"Let me deal with him," he replied. Nodding, she let go of his hand and watched him leave. Returning to his living room, he sat down and stared at his supervisor. "Look, I know what you're going to say. It was dangerous to take her out, but I'm not going to force her to be a shut-in. She doesn't deserve that."

Harry's scoff effectively ended Draco's excuses. "You're supposed to keep her safe," he said through clenched teeth. "Instead, you're parading her around in public as if to say 'here's your target!' I know this isn't the assignment you wanted, but getting her killed won't help you get on with your life, Malfoy."

Getting to his feet, the blond's glare intensified. "And where the hell have you been this past month?" he demanded. "Which one of us has been here every day, making sure she's safe? Last I checked, I've done a pretty good job of doing my job. The one time I need the department, I get Weasley who accuses me of blowing things out of proportion. I've made damn sure that she's okay, that she stays alive. I think I deserve a little credit for that."

A facetious round of applause was what Draco received. "Yes, Malfoy, you're right. Thank you for doing your job," Harry deadpanned.

"That's enough," Hermione interjected. Draco looked over Harry's shoulder and smiled at her. Arms crossed, she joined him. "Draco has been _annoyingly_ protective of me, Harry, so don't accuse him of falling down on the job. Has there been even a hint of a threat in the last month? No. Have you stopped to consider that some people are lunatics, and that that guy didn't plan to find us tonight? That could have been a completely random attack. Until you have all the facts, there's no need to take this out on Draco."

Scowling, Harry had no retort. He bade Hermione goodbye with a promise to fill her in on the details of the attack when he had them. Draco rubbed the back of his neck, feeling guilty for needing Hermione to defend him. "Thank you for doing that," he said sheepishly.

"You didn't deserve to be yelled at," she replied. "Besides, sometimes Harry needs a reminder that his days of playing the savior are over. He has a habit of believing that he's never wrong."

"I've noticed," Draco quipped. "Still, I appreciate you standing up for me."

With a roll of her eyes and humorous grin, Hermione said, "That's what friends do."

He watched her leave, wondering if he should follow. That she thought of him as a friend caught the Auror off guard. Not willing to let the conversation end, he stood in the doorway of her bedroom as she folded laundry. "So, we're friends now?" he asked.

Looking up, Hermione shrugged as she folded one of his jumpers. "Am I wrong for thinking of us that way?" she wondered.

Shaking his head, Draco slowly moved into the room and sat on the edge of her bed. "No, I don't think you are," he said. "I, uh, I've never been good at being friends. Crabbe and Goyle were easy to boss around, so I kept them around to do my bidding. The others - Pansy, Blaise, Theo - weren't people I could trust. We were friends, I guess, but you constantly had to be aware that they should pull the rug out from underneath you if it meant getting ahead. I just...I don't know how to have friends."

"Sure you do," she replied. He eyed her skeptically, but let her explain. "Aside from our rather tense reintroduction, you've mostly been nothing but a friend to me. You're protective, you're complimentary, I enjoy spending my evenings with you. Is it going too far to say that you're enjoying yourself here too?"

"A couple of weeks ago, all those things you just said were used to define me as the nanny," he pointed out. Chagrined, she looked away. "I'd much prefer to be thought of as a friend than a babysitter. And I do enjoy the time we spend together. Even if I'm forced to cook every night and watch terrible movies, I've still had a good time this last month."

Hermione took a deep breath, fearful of the question she needed to ask, but didn't want answered. "When this is over, what happens then?" she wondered.

Lying down, he rested his head on a pile of clean undershirts. "Whatever we want to happen," he replied, smiling at her. "If the suspect in custody is the same person who's been breaking in, then this could be over by morning."

There was a hint of sadness in her eyes as she resumed her task. It was bittersweet to think that their arrangement could end when they woke up the next morning. As nice as it would be to not have anonymous threats hanging over her head, she would miss Draco when he left. Years of bad blood had vanished in the last month, and a part of her wondered if things really could remain cordial between them.

"You look exhausted," she noted. "Go to bed."

Sitting up, he looked doubtful. Should he really leave her alone after all that had happened that evening? "I'm not tired," he said, deciding it would be better to stay with her. Understanding what he wanted, she invited him to stay with her while she finished the laundry. "I'm sorry that the evening was ruined."

Hermione vacated the bed to put away her clothes. "It wasn't," she assured him. "Well, I'm a bit miffed that there was window glass in my ice cream, but I had a nice time aside from that."

"We'll try it again soon," he promised. "It might be a year or two before Potter trusts me to take you out in public, but we'll do it."

Frowning, she returned to the bed. "Do you really think he would do that?" she asked.

"To protect you, yeah, I think he would," Draco replied. "I also think, after what's happened and if this suspect doesn't pan out, he'll convince the Minister to reassign your protective detail. I'll be fetching coffee and filing paperwork, if Potter gets his way."

"I won't let him get his way," she vowed. Rising, she began to turn down the bed. "Stay with me tonight?"

Believing that it would be his last opportunity to be by her side, even from the rocking chair at the foot of the bed, Draco obliged and settled in for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Harry entered the flat early the next morning. The blankets that made up Draco's bed were still on the armchair they had been on the night before, and he wondered if their sleeping arrangements had changed. Anger welled up inside of him as he entered the bedroom. Though Draco slept in the rocking chair, it had been pulled up the bed. Hermione slept at the foot of the bed, close enough to Draco that they were able to hold hands. He banged on the door, startling the pair, and causing their hands to separate. Draco aimed his wand, ready to send a curse, but thought better of it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, tossing his wand onto the bed as Hermione vacated it.

"I could ask you the same," Harry retorted. "She's your charge, not your girlfriend. What's going on here?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she stepped between the two men. "Nothing's going on," she told her friend. "I asked him to stay in here. It might surprise you to learn that I have a bit of trouble sleeping after being attacked. He's here to keep me safe, isn't he? Draco was just doing his job. Now that that's out of the way, what are you doing here so early?"

Harry sighed tiredly. "We questioned that suspect," he explained. "He admits to shattering the window. Said he saw a Death Eater and decided to help the Ministry eliminate him." Draco scowled angrily, relaxing only when he felt a soft hand close around his wrist. If Harry noticed the contact, he said nothing. "Anyhow, he's in custody, awaiting trial for attempting to attack an Auror and civilian. The problem is, he claims he hasn't been breaking into the shop, and the evidence doesn't point to him either."

"The evidence doesn't point to anyone," Draco pointed out.

Harry nodded, not thrilled that he had to agree with Malfoy. "Anyhow, in the meantime, I'd prefer the both of you lay low," he advised. "Malfoy, you seem to be just as much of a target as Hermione. It wouldn't do her any good if someone offs you."

Arms crossed, Hermione scowled. "Harry," she said, her tone borderline threatening. Raising his hands in surrender, he kept his mouth shut. "If the two of you are finished, I have a store that needs opening. Draco, care to join me?"

Nodding, he followed her from the bedroom and down to the shop. Having grown bored with sitting around all day watching her, he had picked up some of the tasks that needed to be done. Each morning, he shelved new inventory and lifted the wards. During the day, he worked the register and helped customers. He helped close up at the end of the night. It was what his father called menial labor, but Draco didn't mind doing it.

"Do you think people will always see me as a Death Eater?" he wondered, straightening up a display table.

"Not all people," Hermione replied. "I don't know that I ever saw you as a Death Eater. I knew you had the Dark Mark, but I never believed that it was something you wanted."

He stared out the window, watching the sun rise and the other shops open. "It was," he admitted, "until it actually happened. Merlin, that was probably the worst day of my life. I knew I'd made a mistake, but it was my mother's life on the line. I couldn't lose her. After that, after the war and my trial ended, I just wanted to do whatever I could to distance myself from that. I'm not so sure it worked."

Hermione stood beside him and took in the view. "I think part of the problem is you still see yourself as a Death Eater," she replied, hoping the comment wouldn't anger him. To her surprise, he agreed. "I also think you should stop. You're a much better person than anyone gives you credit for, including yourself."

He turned to face her as a smirk began to appear on his lips. "You're about the only one who thinks so highly of me," he remarked. "How is it possible that you see something that no one else does?"

Looking down at her shoes, Hermione shrugged. "Maybe because you let me," she suggested. His hand closed around hers, and she finally looked up. "I know we were both unhappy when this first began, but I'm glad it was you that the Ministry assigned."

"I'm glad we figured out how to get along," Draco added with a gentle laugh. "I'm also pretty happy that Potter isn't having me reassigned. At least I don't think he is yet."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go. "Keep being nice to me, and I'll make sure he doesn't," Hermione promised.

"I can do that," he replied with a smile as the day's first customer entered the shop. It was a familiar face, one Draco hadn't seen in years. Blaise Zabini, dressed in an expensive suit, approached with a smile. Still standing close to Hermione, Draco was sure the lascivious grin was for his companion, and it made him uneasy. Stepping forward, his body half blocking Hermione's, Draco extended his hand to greet his old friend. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

Indigo eyes looked past Draco to the brunette behind him. "I've heard good things about this place. Thought I'd check it out," Blaise replied. "Miss Granger, looking lovely as always."

Uncomfortable under Zabini's scrutinizing gaze, Hermione excused herself. "Anything I can help you with?" Draco inquired.

"When did you become Granger's shop boy?" Blaise wondered as he browsed the new releases.

Draco shrugged. "We're friends," was his only response.

"That's it? Just friends?" Blaise inquired, a dark eyebrow raised. "Is there any truth to the rumor that you're playing bodyguard to the brains behind the Golden Trio?"

Once more, the blond shrugged. "Do you really think I'd tell you if I were?" he replied. "Besides, it's Granger. Do you really think she needs someone to protect her?"

Chuckling, Blaise agreed that Hermione was one woman who didn't need a man's protection. "Then, what's going on?" he asked, selecting a book on rare potions. "Change of heart? Love spell?"

"Yeah, I learned that purebloods and muggleborns are the exact same kind of people," Draco stated. "There are good ones and bad ones, and Hermione's one of the best. Now, I know it's been awhile since we've seen one another, but I know you, Blaise. What are you really doing here?"

With a smirk on his lips, Blaise leaned back against the shelves. "Business," he said casually.

Before Draco could draw his wand, the world went black.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The bright, florescent lights hurt his eyes as Draco awoke. It took only seconds for him to realize he was at St. Mungo's, and despite the pain in his head, he bolted upright. All thoughts were on Hermione. Where was she? Was she safe? How could he have failed her? Then he saw her asleep by his bed. Draco finally breathed.

It wasn't long before Hermione woke, and upon realizing that Draco had regained consciousness, had her arms wrapped around him in a Molly Weasley-style, bone crushing hug. "Oh thank God," she murmured.

"What the hell happened?" he wondered, holding her close.

Pulling away, she sat down by his side. "I don't know," she admitted. "I went into the office, and then I heard a crash. I Stupefied Blaise before he could do anything to me. You were out cold, though. I called Harry, and as soon as his team arrived, I brought you here. The healers deduced that it was a very powerful stunning charm that caused you to lose consciousness, but you'll be alright."

"You're okay though?" he asked, staring at their hands as Hermione grasped his. She assured him that she hadn't been hurt, which put his mind at ease. "Any news from Potter? Before I blacked out, Blaise said he was there on business. Any idea who he might be working for, or a motive from coming after us on his own?"

With a tired sigh, she shook her head. "They've been interrogating him for hours," she said. "Harry said he'd let me know when they found out anything useful, but he hasn't come by at all."

"I wonder if I'm sacked," he muttered.

Hermione moved closer, and Draco put his arm around her shoulders. "You were wounded on the job, and aided in the capture of a suspect in my case," she stated. "There are no fireable offenses in your actions."

But Draco saw the day's events differently. "If you were anyone but you, who knows what could have happened," he said. "Blaise could have kidnapped you. You could dead. Failing you is the fireable offense."

"You didn't fail me," she insisted. Sitting up, she turned to face him, and with only a split-second's hesitation, kissed him for the first time.

As much as he wanted it, he knew it was wrong. Draco let himself enjoy her kiss for only a moment before pulling away. "I can't do this," he told her. Hermione vacated the bed, and watched silently as he gathered his thoughts. "I'm supposed to be a professional. I'm not supposed to get attached. Maintaining distance is one of the first things you learn in training. If Potter found out-"

"You'd be fired," Hermione finished for him. "I'm sorry I kissed you. It won't happen again."

Try as he might to reason with her, Hermione was no longer in the mood for conversation. They sat in silence until he was discharged and returned to her flat. Ron waited in the living room while a team of Aurors guarded the shop. "Harry wants you moved, Hermione," he announced. "You'll be staying at the Burrow for the time being."

"That seems unlikely," Hermione retorted. "What did you find out from Zabini?"

"We always believed he had no ties to Voldemort," Ron explained, sitting down on the sofa. "I don't recall him taking the mark or participating in the battle. However, and after a lot of Veritaserum, he revealed he's been working with Dolohov. We both know Dolohov's had it out for you since the Department of Mysteries. Blaise's connection to him, though, I don't know."

Draco cleared his throat. "Dolohov's been sleeping with his mother for the last decade," he told them. "He's been like a father to Blaise. He's a cruel, sadistic, torturous bastard, but he was always good to the Zabinis."

Processing this new information, Ron nodded before continuing. "Anyhow, Harry and I think it's better if the two of you are separated," he said. "You've become just as big a target as Hermione, and in order to ensure your safety, this is his decision. You're free to return home, Malfoy."

He left then, and the flat fell into silence. Hermione watched as Draco packed his belongings. "You should be doing the same," he advised. "Who knows how long you'll be with the Weasleys."

"I'm not going to the Burrow," Hermione informed him. "I've lived with Molly Weasley before. If Dolohov doesn't kill me, I might just off myself."

"You're just going to disobey The Chosen One's orders?" Draco asked.

Hermione shrugged as she sat down beside his bags. "Last I checked, I can take care of myself," she replied. "Besides, he's only doing this to separate us. Heaven forbid he see that you're good at your job."

With a heavy sigh, he took the seat beside her. "What if I'm not?" he wondered. "I've put you in harm's way twice. I've done nothing to help with the investigation. Maybe it would be better if someone else took over."

There was nothing to be said. She could argue until she was blue in the face, but Draco was just as stubborn as she. If he wanted to be reassigned, he would see to it that it happened. Harry would certainly be happy to delight in Draco's perceived failures. Instead of pursuing the conversation, she asked, "Am I allowed to go downstairs?"

Draco looked up as she stood. "I don't know," he murmured. Turning on her heel, she left without a word. Glancing at his half-packed bags, he shook his head and followed her. Entering her office, he grabbed her arm before she could sit. "Hermione, wait. Look, you're my first...my _only_ priority. I care about you so much, and I never want to see you hurt. I'm sorry if I upset you."

Hermione turned and removed his hand from her arm, but she didn't let it go. "It's crazy, right?" she said. "We spent seven years hating one another, and in the course of a month, we don't want to let each other walk away. Maybe there is something to not getting attached to a job."

His free hand caressed her cheek. "You're not a job," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. "You trust me, right? Will you come somewhere with me?"

Still dazed by his kiss, it took Hermione a moment to comprehend what he asked. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she wondered.

"You'll be safe," he assured her, holding her close. "You heard Weasley. I'm free to go home. You have no interest in going to the Burrow. No one would think to look for you at my place. I can protect you, and you could take a little break from this place."

"You'll at least tell Harry?" she asked. Receiving the confirmation she needed, Hermione agreed. "Let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Since the incident with Blaise that landed Draco in the hospital, Narcissa Malfoy had taken up residence with her son. She had never been fond of his desire to become an Auror, insisting that it was dangerous work, and he had seen enough horrors in his short life. She liked that he had been assigned to guard duty, watching over Hermione, and could do so from the privacy and safety of his own home.

Hermione had initially been wary of the Malfoy matriarch. She was the sister of Bellatrix Lestrange, wife of Lucius Malfoy, and a proud pureblood who seemed to believe in the genocide of those she deemed below her. When she was greeted with a smile and an awkward attempt at a hug, Hermione was sure she was being led into a false sense of security. The rug would be pulled out soon. And so, she stayed close to Draco.

"She won't hurt you," he promised as they readied themselves for bed. "I trust her, and you can too. I've made it very clear to her just how important you are to me, and she won't jeopardize my happiness."

Grinning, she eyed him as he pulled off his shirt. "And I make you happy?" she inquired.

He walked over to her side of the bed they now shared. "Very happy," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her. "Narcissa isn't as happy with our sleeping arrangements, but that's her fault. I only have two bedrooms."

"There is the sofa," she reminded him.

With a groan, he laid her down and hovered over her. "My back will never forgive you for that," he replied.

Hermione giggled as their lips touched. These were the moments she loved most - the moments she could pretend they were a couple just like any other. In his arms, in his bed, there were no threats, no madmen hellbent on ending her life. It was peaceful and comforting, and she never wanted it to end. "What if I promise to never make you sleep on my sofa again?" she asked as his lips moved to her throat. "Or in a chair by my bed?"

"You really think I'll listen if you banish me from your bed now?" he inquired. "I'm a selfish man, Hermione Granger, and when I find someone or something that I like, I don't let go. Looks like you're stuck with me."

"I'm willing to keep you," she decided. The items on his dresser shook as Narcissa pounded on the shared wall. "We should really start using charms. It's not fair to her to have to listen to us."

Rolling off her, Draco stared at the ceiling. "Or maybe she'll go home," he suggested. "I'm sure Father misses her terribly." He made sure that sentiment came across loudly, and prayed his mother heard.

"Be nice," Hermione chided as she slipped under the blankets.

The next morning, she awoke first, and was careful to not disturb Draco. Like her, Narcissa was a morning person, and it gave them the opportunity to get to know one another better. Over breakfast, Hermione apologized for all the older witch overheard the night before. Narcissa chuckled softly. "Oh please," she said. "I'd have died of a heart attack long ago if I let his behavior bother me. My son enjoys every little spike in my blood pressure. Sometimes, I think he hasn't grown up at all. But then I see him with you, and I know he has."

Hermione blushed as she sipped her tea. "He's completely different from the boy I grew up with," she shared. "When the Ministry assigned him to my case, I thought we'd kill each other in the first 48 hours. He's been so good to me, and not because he had to be. It would have been easy to keep our distance, but he didn't want to."

Narcissa glanced behind her to make sure they were still alone. "He would kill me if he knew I told you this," she said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "All those years he spent teasing and harassing you were also years spent praising you. You amazed him - this little muggleborn who knew nothing of magic, but surpassed everyone. I know as a boy he would never admit it, but I think he had a bit of a crush on you."

The blush the young witch wore darkened. Hermione had long believed that the only feelings Draco felt for her were hatred. Until they were forced to live together, he had shown no sign that he could feel differently. "Do you really think he could have?" she wondered, recalling the oft used logic that boys teased the girls they liked because they didn't know how to express their emotions otherwise. "The way he was raised, I didn't think it would allow for him to like someone like me."

"It wouldn't," Narcissa agreed, knowing she was responsible for many of the beliefs with which her son had been raised. "However, Draco is much smarter than his father or I. He realized for himself that the things he was taught as a child were wrong. I'm happy he learned that lesson young, and I like that he's chosen you."

Draco entered then and placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Leave her alone, Mother," he warned. "I can't even begin to imagine what you said to make her cheeks so red."

Narcissa dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. "I was only sharing stories of you running through the Manor naked as a boy," she stated. "I believe what Hermione is experiencing is called second-hand embarrassment."

Getting to her feet, Hermione put an end to the lighthearted argument between the Malfoys. "Have you heard from Harry?" she inquired, turning her full attention to Draco.

Sighing, he took her seat and shook his head. "I've asked my father to look into Dolohov though," he replied. "The two of them worked together often. I'm hoping there's a chance he can still get in touch with him."

"You're positive your father would turn him in?" Narcissa inquired as she began to clear the table and prepare a plate for her son.

Smirking, Draco nodded. He had arranged for Lucius's probation time to be cut in half if he aided the investigation. "There's something at stake for him," he explained. "Lucius will probably prove to be more useful than the Auror department."

Narcissa set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast on the table. "And what happens when the investigation ends?" she wondered. When neither answered, she clarified her remark. "You've had an intense beginning to your relationship. You've spent no time apart in the last month. Once this is over, you both will go back to the lives you led before. I would hate to think that being apart could ruin things between the two of you."

Ignoring his breakfast, Draco placed an arm around Hermione's waist and held her close. "We'll be fine," he stated.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Am I reading more into what she said than I should be?" Draco wondered. "Was she suggesting we end this now?"

Hermione stared at him. "Where did you get that idea?" she inquired. For the first time in days, they had the flat to themselves as Narcissa ran errands. "If anything, she seemed concerned that we might end things. I know that five, ten years ago, I wasn't the kind of girl your parents had in mind for you, but your mother seems supportive."

He sat down beside her and leafed through the nearest book. "Yeah, but that was part of your appeal. I'm not sure I want you now," he joked. Hermione laughed as she hit him with a throw pillow. "Merlin, Granger. Why is your first reaction always violence?"

Shrugging, she returned her attention to her book. "I don't know. It's usually the first emotion you bring out in me," she replied. "But you're pretty, so I tend to feel guilty about it afterwards."

The humorous banter quickly faded into silence. Once again, Draco pondered his mother's questions. He wanted her to be wrong. Time apart wouldn't hurt them. It couldn't. Unless Hermione wanted it to end, Draco would do all he could to hold onto their relationship. Nothing and no one could come between them. There was a nagging, gnawing thought in his mind though, one he couldn't help but voice.

"What if...you always said that you and Weasley didn't know how to be a couple when there wasn't the threat of war hanging over you, that you didn't know to act around each other once the war ended," he said nervously. "What if that happens to us?"

Hermione moved closer, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "It won't," she murmured. "Ron and I were different. We're different people. We didn't enjoy the same things or want the same things. I wanted to finish school, he wanted to play Quidditch. He wanted to get married and have kids right away, and I wanted a career. It didn't matter to him that I wanted a life of my own. Our relationship was boring and suffocating, and the only thing I could think about was getting out."

"Ours could feel the same way," he pointed out.

Smiling, she kissed his cheek. "No, it won't," she said confidently. "This feels normal. I know it shouldn't because there's an insane Death Eater who wants me dead, but still, normal is how I feel with you. I can talk to you, and not feel like I need to talk down to you. You don't care if I read until three in the morning and am too tired to talk over breakfast. We talk to each other and listen to one another. Sure, we bicker, but the anger never lasts long. When this is over, and we go back to our old lives, I still want to be with you."

"I want you too," he admitted as her arms wound around his neck. Lips met for a brief, but tender kiss before Draco pulled away. "I just want this to be over so we can do that."

"Don't worry, I'm sure it will be," she replied.

000000000

Lucius Malfoy sat behind his desk, staring at the orange flames. They would turn green soon, and Antonin Dolohov would be in his sights. He didn't care if Hermione Granger lived or died at Dolohov's wand. The Death Eater's capture meant a reduced sentence for himself, while putting an end to his son's guard duty. Malfoys didn't babysit mudbloods, nor did they date them. Handing Dolohov over to the Aurors meant separating the pair, hopefully for good.

A short, balding man with a rounded waistline stepped into the office and grinned. There was an evil glint in his eyes, one he'd had for decades. Antonin Dolohov enjoyed torture, and the madness was reflected in his dark as night eyes. "Lucius," he said with a hint of a Russian accent.

"Good of you to come," the blond greeted him, rising from his seat to shake his former colleague's hand.

"You said you had news," Dolohov said, getting down to business. "The Potter brat didn't quite do his job, eh? Always was a cocky, little welp. So, you truly believe the Dark Lord can be resurrected?"

A smirk settled on the pale, pointed face of Lucius Malfoy. "Oh, indeed," he replied. "It can't be done alone though. There are more pressing matters to discuss however. I've heard rumors about you, and I believe we have a mutual enemy. Draco has gotten quite close to Potter's little mudblood, and I'd like to put a stop to it. I've heard you'd like her eliminated as well."

Dolohov chuckled softly. "What an odd rumor," he mused. "Where would you have heard such a thing?"

Lucius shrugged as he poured two tumblers of firewhiskey. "Around," was his vague response. "Are you saying they're untrue?"

"I'm not willing to confirm anything until I know I can trust you, Lucius," Dolohov stated, ignoring the drink now in his hand.

Reclaiming his seat, Lucius took small sips of his firewhiskey. "I'm nothing but loyal," he responded. "I was the Dark Lord's right hand man. I fought for him, for his beliefs. I won't see that hard work and dedication ruined because my son thinks with the wrong head. She is, and I begrudgingly admit this, a talented witch. I cannot hope to do this alone."

Dolohov couldn't help but wonder about the Malfoy heir. "He's an Auror, is he not?" he inquired. "The Granger girl hasn't been seen in a week. You, yourself, say he's taken up with her. The company of an Auror is good to keep if she fears for her safety."

Blond brows rose. "Who said she fears for her safety?" Lucius asked innocently.

Without missing a beat, Dolohov replied, "You have your sources. I have mine."

That unsettling grin returned to the elder Malfoy's lips. "Are you in?" he asked. "Imagine it - it'll be just like the old days. Torturing mudbloods, listening to them scream, knowing that they know who their superiors are."

Dolohov couldn't deny that the idea enticed him, and agreed to aid Malfoy's plan. He knew nothing of Blaise Zabini's arrest, nor the interrogation that followed. He didn't know that the Aurors had placed spells around the study in order to record the conversation between the former Death Eaters. The pair agreed to reconvene in two day's time to hash out their plans.

When Dolohov was gone, Harry Potter entered the study. "You're a deeply disturbed man, aren't you?" he asked, having heard the entire exchange.

The older wizard scowled as he finished his whiskey. "You couldn't have arrested him now?" he inquired. "He was right here, ripe for the taking."

Harry smirked, enjoying watching the elder Malfoy squirm. "I can't do that until he does something. I know you've never been on this side of the law before, but that's the way it works," he commented. "I'm curious to know what it is you're more looking forward to - the reduced sentence or your son's separation from Hermione?"

There was a menacing look in the cold gray eyes of Lucius Malfoy. "That pathetic excuse for a man used a boy to attack my son," he spat. "As much as I dislike Miss Granger, I love my son. No one hurts my boy, Potter. _No one_."

"Just do your job, Malfoy," Harry advised coldly before dismissing himself.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

I kinda have this idea to do a prequel to one of my stories, _More Than a Feeling._ Thoughts? Yay? Nay?

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Narcissa finally returned home, which gave the new couple the privacy they so desperately sought. There had been no new developments in the case, but Blaise was awaiting trial before the Wizengamot. There was no news from his father regarding Dolohov, and Draco wasn't sure he would hear anything. But Hermione was safe and in his arms.

Life was good.

"What's the first thing you're going to do when this is over?" Hermione asked as they watched the late night news. After being introduced to the contraption, Draco insisted they bring her set with them when moving to his flat.

Draco sighed contentedly as he thought about her question. "Sleep," he decided. "And once we're both rested, I intend to take you on a proper date. It'll be nice to be out in public without worrying that some lunatic is going to try to hurt you."

"That would be nice," she agreed, resting against him. "Even if I were attacked, I know you'd have my back, same as I would have yours. That's what we do, right? We take care of each other."

Holding her closer, he kissed the top of her head. "And we always will," he vowed. They sat in silence as they listened to the weekly weather forecast. "I spoke to Potter today. He's arranged a safe house for us. Something about my father being in contact with Dolohov, and it being too easy for him to find this place. He wants us packed up and ready to go tomorrow morning. Does it come as a surprise at all that he's not happy with our current arrangement?"

Hermione scowled, her eyes still trained on the screen. "He has a point though," she reluctantly admitted. "If your father has your address, Dolohov could easily have it too. Moving makes sense. On the other hand, if Lucius is supposed to lure Dolohov in, how does he do that if he doesn't know where we are?"

"Potter's got a plan for that too," Draco muttered. "Wanker won't tell me what the plan is, but he said he has one."

Nodding, she rose and walked to the bedroom with Draco on her heels. "Do you think this is a one-time move?" she inquired, stuffing her clothes into a suitcase. "Has Harry hinted at all that they're close to catching Dolohov? It's not right of him to keep us in the dark like this. We deserve to know what's going on."

Sighing, he sat down beside her standing figure and removed a pair of pants from her hand. "This is just the way we do things," he explained, pulling her onto his lap. "We don't give all the details because, oftentimes, we don't have them. Potter has a plan, but he doesn't think we need to know it just yet. I'm sure once we're at the safe house, he'll tell us something."

"Optimist," she muttered, looking at her half-packed belongings. "Sorry, I don't mean to be grumpy. I just like knowing what's going on, especially when it affects me so greatly."

"For now, do you think you can settle with being a bit out of the loop, but safe?" he asked. Begrudgingly, she agreed and returned to her task. "I'm not happy about this either, you know. Being here, I feel normal. It's helped me forget that there's a threat. But maybe this is a good thing. I'll remember that I have a responsibility."

Hermione closed her case and put it on the floor. "I didn't think you'd forgotten," she remarked. "Until Dolohov is behind bars, I don't think it's possible to forget. Playing house is nice, but knowing that someone is actively trying to kill you takes some of the fun out of it."

He chuckled as he began his own packing. "Well, you're not wrong," he muttered. With his final bag packed, he looked her way as she watched him. "Is that something you want to do?"

Dark brows rose. "Are you suggesting we live together when this is all over?" she asked.

Shrugging, he placed his luggage beside hers. "It's like my mother said - we moved fast," he replied. "I'm not scared of losing you. If you choose to walk away, I'll have to be okay with that. But I'm not afraid that you would do that. I just...I've been on my own most of my life, and I thought I was okay with that. Being with you has made me realize that I don't want to be alone. I liked being with you in the shop even when you bossed me around. I like curling up with you on the sofa after dinner. I love waking up next to you in the morning when you can be bothered to sleep in a bit. Anyhow, I think what I'm trying to say is yes, I am asking if we could live together when this is over."

Holding his hand, Hermione smiled. "I'm not going anywhere," she assured him. "Ask Ron and Harry, I'm a tough one to shake. Although, I like to see my persistence as an attribute rather than a flaw. I am a bit concerned that my tendency to ramble has worn off on you, but I'm curious to see which other traits I can inflict."

"So, is that a yes?" Draco wondered. "Or were you hoping to talk until I forgot the original question?"

"Would that really work?" she asked, which Draco denied. "Where would we live? Your flat, my flat, a whole new place?"

He silenced her rapid fire questions with a kiss. "We have time to make plans," he told her. "Let's take this one step at a time. First things first - we put a lunatic in prison. After that, we'll figure out the logistics of living together. As long as we're together, I don't care where we are."

000000000

"You really think this is a good idea?" Ron wondered as Harry finished laying out the plan. "I don't like using Mione as bait."

Harry scowled as he removed his glasses. "Do you have a better idea?" he inquired. "Because I would love to hear something, anything that means we don't put Hermione in any more danger. More than that, I'd appreciate not having to work with yet another Malfoy."

"You can still sack him when this is through," Ron advised. "It should come as no surprise to anyone that Draco's useless as an Auror. He's a danger to Hermione and anyone else he might be assigned to protect in the future."

Sighing, Harry knew his friend was right. Draco Malfoy wasn't needed. "They've gotten close though," he said. "We could lose her."

Ron shook his head. "Hermione's loyalties lie with us," he disagreed. "A few kind words from Draco Malfoy won't change that. Besides, it's like that thing...Stocking Syndrome. She thinks she's in love with him because she can't escape him."

"Stockholm Syndrome," Harry corrected him. "And I don't think it's like that at all. I think she really does love him, and it's going to kill her when she finds out about what Draco agreed to to convince Lucius to help him."

Concern furrowed Ron's brow. "What agreement?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Hermione stood on the beach, toes digging into the sand, as she stared at the sea. She was pleased with the safe house Harry had procured. During their year on the run before the final battle, she had once mentioned her desire to live in a house by the sea, one similar to Shell Cottage. Harry had remembered, and she was grateful. There was peace in watching the waves roll in, crash along the shore, then retreat. It was dependable. It wouldn't change. Hermione liked that.

"Hey," Harry greeted her softly. "I'm taking off now, so I thought I'd say goodbye."

Hermione turned and offered him a small smile. "Thank you for this," she said. "If I have to be trapped anywhere, I'm glad it's someplace so beautiful."

"You feel trapped?" he asked. "Maybe there's hope yet."

The brunette scowled as she watched the water. "I know you're not happy about this, Harry, but you could pretend to be," she stated. "I won't allow you to make me feel guilty for loving Draco. It's my life, and I'll do with it as I wish."

Green eyes widened. "I didn't realize it had gotten so far," he commented. "You love Malfoy? And you're sure he feels the same way? I know I'm going to make you mad, but to hell with it. In all the time I've know him, he's never been a good guy, and I don't think he deserves you. I think this whole thing is just a case of the two of you being stuck in close quarters for too long. It's not love, it's necessity."

"I never questioned your feelings for Cho or Ginny or any other woman you've fancied," she said with a steely grit in her voice. "Don't question mine."

Harry watched as she walked away and entered the small, beach-side cottage. After warding the house, he left. Hermione watched from the front window, and breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone. Draco entered the sitting room and stood behind her. "Potter didn't stay?" he asked. Hermione shook her head. "Pity. I was about to offer to make breakfast. Oh well. More for us."

She turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest. "I don't appreciate being second guessed," she stated.

Draco held up his hands in surrender, gray eyes brimming with confusion. "I would never," he vowed.

"Merlin, not you," she muttered before sharing with him her conversation with Harry. "I'm the brightest witch of our age, right? That's all I've heard since I entered this stupid world. But when it comes to a boy, oh no, I'm just a feeble-minded little woman who isn't smart enough or can't be trusted to make a good decision."

Before her rant could continue, Draco interrupted. "Do you know what I've always admired about you?" he asked her. "You don't care what other people think. Did you change your ways when I called you an annoying, big haired, bookworm know-it-all? Or did you prove that you were smarter than the rest of us? Yes, it's terribly self-serving of me to say that you should ignore Potter, but you should. I'd hate to see you kowtow to him because he doesn't approve of you doing something you want."

Her arms wound around his torso, and she finally smiled. "I love you," she murmured. Draco stiffened in her arms, and she feared that her words of passion had come too soon. "I'm sorry. You don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know how I feel. I didn't mean to-"

"Stop talking," he replied. "I just...I needed a moment to process. No one ever said that to me before. My mother told other people that she loved me, but she never actually said those words to me. I just...I love you too."

Hermione believed him. With her whole heart, she trusted those words. Draco Malfoy loved her. Lips met in a passionate embrace as he held her close, lifting her up to carry her off to their bedroom. An hour later, they lay together in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets. Hermione breathed a heavy, contented sigh. "Let's stay here forever," she suggested.

"In this bed, or this house?" Draco wondered.

Rolling onto her stomach, Hermione smiled at him. "Both," she replied. "We could stay right here, in this bed, in this room, for the rest of our lives. I know I'd be happy."

"There's the store to think about," he reminded her. "How will you run it from here?"

Hermione frowned. "Why are you being realistic?" she inquired. "This isn't the time for that. Reality has no place in our lives at this moment."

With a soft laugh, he apologized. "Okay, fine. No rational thinking allowed in this bed," he agreed. "Just so I'm clear on the rules, am I allowed to leave it briefly to get a glass of water? I don't think life will be as much fun if we die of thirst."

Reluctantly, she admitted that she too could use a drink, and watched him pull on his pants before leaving the room. Alone, she turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Life seemed good, but too perfect to last. Try as she might to hold onto hope that things were turning around, Hermione Granger was, in fact, a realist. There was still the threat of Dolohov, the animosity between Harry and Draco, the fear that Lucius Malfoy may not entirely be on their side. It was always on her mind, and no amount of distractions could change that.

Several minutes had past without a sound from downstairs. There were no sounds of running water or footsteps coming towards the stairs. Fearful that Draco had run into trouble, she quickly dressed and grabbed her wand before cautiously making her way to the kitchen. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

Lucius Malfoy and Antonin Dolohov trained their wands on Draco. If he knew she was there, he gave nothing away. "Father, this isn't necessary," he said, his voice calm and unfaltering.

"Give us the mudblood, and you won't get hurt," threatened Dolohov.

"What do you want with her?" Draco wondered exasperatedly. "You said it yourself - she's a mudblood. They're of no value. What use do they have besides a quick shag?"

Dolohov snickered. "Your boy's not as dumb as I thought," he remarked. "Now, why don't you give us the girl so we can get on with our day."

Draco stared at the wands pointed in his direction. "She's upstairs," he said. "Take a right. It's the first door you'll see."

Hermione now knew that he had seen her, and he set up the perfect opportunity to stop the pair. Cloaked by a Disillusionment charm, her wordless Stupefy caught Dolohov off guard. He fell with a heavy thud. She wore a satisfied grin as she flipped him over and bound him with rope. Draco was soon by her side as she sent her Patronus to Harry. "Is it over now?" she asked.

Arms wrapped around her in a protective, loving embrace. "Yes, love, it is," he replied. "I told you I'd never let anyone hurt you."

She breathed a sigh of relief until she heard footsteps behind them. "Well, you're right about one thing," Lucius stated. "This is over. Draco, say goodbye to the mudblood."


	15. Chapter 15

I might need to stop watching _Game of Thrones_, you guys. I had a dream that I was Peter Dinklage, which is awesome because Peter Dinklage! The ensuing attack, however, was not cool because, ya know, Peter Dinklage! Yes, this is my way of saying that I have a crush on Peter Dinklage.

* * *

Chapter 15

"Where's Malfoy?" Harry asked when he entered the house with his team behind him. Hermione sat over the stunned body of Antonin Dolohov, but didn't say a word. Harry bent down beside her and placed a hand on her tense shoulder. "Hermione? What's going on?"

The Aurors removed Dolohov's body while Harry escorted Hermione to the sitting room. "He took him," she murmured. "Lucius took Draco. He told him to say goodbye, and then he grabbed Draco and Apparated. I don't know where they went. I don't know if Draco's alright. I hate not knowing things, Harry."

He called Ron over to stay with her. "We'll find him," Harry promised. "Ron's going to take your statement, and I really do suggest going to the Burrow now. With Lucius going rogue, who knows if he'll come after you."

"I'm going with you," she stated, getting to her feet. Harry tried to protest, but Hermione wouldn't hear it. "I know you don't care about my relationship with him, but we protect each other. There's no way in hell I'm going to sit around the Burrow with Molly hovering over me while you two go in search of Draco. I'm sure your attempt will be half-hearted at best."

"That's not fair," Ron interjected. "We're Aurors. Malfoy's an Auror. We're not going to leave him to rot. You know, I'm getting a little tired of you not obeying our orders, Hermione. Just go to the Burrow like Harry said, and let us do our job."

Hermione had never been one to back down to the likes of Harry Potter or Ron Weasley. She held her ground. "I'm going with you," she said defiantly and definitively. "I took down Dolohov, didn't I? I think I can handle Lucius."

Sighing, Harry gave in. "Burke, see if you can trace Malfoy's wand. I'm assuming he had it on him," Harry instructed. "If we can pinpoint a location, we'll be able to send in a team to extract him."

"His wand is upstairs," Hermione informed the Aurors.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Fine, then track Lucius Malfoy's," he said. "Convicted felons all have a trace on their wands. Helps us keep tabs on them."

Hermione nodded as she pulled on her shoes, ready to leave. "He's at Malfoy Manor," Burke, a middle-aged, gray-haired man, reported. "Seems odd he'd take his brat there though. Too obvious. What about the wife? Should I trace hers? Maybe the old psycho used hers instead."

"Yeah, or maybe she was in on it," Ron muttered, giving Burke the go-ahead to perform the spell.

But Harry disagreed. "I don't think she would do that," he said. He knew that Draco was Narcissa Malfoy's greatest concern. She had risked her life, and saved his, for information on her son during the war. Surely, she would have talked her husband out of kidnapping their son if she knew of his plan.

"I don't understand why Lucius would do this though," Hermione muttered. "I know he wasn't thrilled that Draco and I were together, but this is going too far."

Harry felt the weight of his coming confession, and it felt like a mountain on his back. "There's something you should know," he started.

00000000000

Draco felt like a child, locked in his room with no way out. It was a punishment often inflicted on him as a little boy when his parents knew of no other way to discipline him. It was fitting when he threw a crystal goblet of pumpkin juice at a wall when he was five. As an adult, it felt unjust to be punished for falling in love with the "wrong" girl.

The door opened just wide enough for his father to enter, and it closed before Draco could consider escape. "You have guests," he was told. "The Aurors have come looking for you, and they brought the mudblood."

"Stop calling her that," Draco seethed, grabbing the collar of his father's robes.

Lucius sneered. "You have no wand," he reminded him. "You can't hurt me."

A right hook proved the old man wrong. "Let me out of here, or that happens again," Draco threatened. "I'm not above hurting my own father. In fact, I plan to ensure you spend the next few years in a cell. Mother won't be happy, but I'm sure she isn't thrilled that you've locked up your only son either."

When Lucius refused to let him out, Draco knocked his father's head into the nearest wall and grabbed his wand. It was far more satisfying to blast through the door than worry about unlocking it. Plaster, wood, and dust floated around him, landed on his father, and covered the carpets. He sprinted downstairs to the foyer and the Aurors who questioned his mother. Spotting Hermione, he ran to her, needing to know that she was alright.

Instead, she slapped him. Draco held the injured cheek and grabbed her arm, despite her protests. It wouldn't do to fight in front of his colleagues, and so he led her to the closest sitting room. All the while, she fought him, digging her nails into his hand and demanding he let her go. Once inside, he warded the room to keep her in and eavesdroppers out.

"I trusted you," she yelled. "I wasn't a job. You loved me. It's all bullshit. Harry told me everything."

"And what exactly did Potter tell you?" he inquired.

Her anger wasn't assuaged by his calm voice. "He told me I was your bargaining chip," she said. "That you used me to rope your father into helping with the case. He gets his reduced sentence and my humiliation."

Draco scoffed and shook his head. "Does none of that sound crazy to you?" he wondered. "Yes, I told my father that, in exchange for his help, his probation would be reduced and that I would never see you again. He wasn't willing to contact Dolohov otherwise. I did what I did to put an end of to this case because I couldn't stand knowing that someone wanted to hurt you. Potter's had the same goal as my father - to split us up, and you clearly trust him more than me. So, if you're going to walk away, do it now."

Head held high, she walked by him as he unlocked the doors. Hermione reached for the gold plated handles, ready to walk out. "It seems to me that I can't trust anyone anymore," she remarked sadly.

"Are you really leaving?" he asked.

Hermione eyed him, noticing the way his gray eyes glistened. There was no brave face, no stoic facade. He wore his emotions proudly. "Give me a reason not to," she replied, doing her best to remain strong.

Closing the distance between them, Draco placed his hands on her waist. "Because I mean it when I say that I love you," he murmured. "And I truly believed that telling my father I'd never speak to you again was the only thing I could do to get him to help us. I swear to you, Hermione, I never intended to really do it. I know I told you I'd have to be okay with you walking away when this was over, but I'm not sure that I can."

She wiped away a tear as it slid down his cheek. A decision needed to be made - walk away or stay, and it wasn't an easy choice for Hermione to make. Instead, she took the coward's way out. "I need some time to think."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

It had been a week since Hermione had last seen Draco. He had promised to give her all the time she needed, but she thought he might make some attempt to see her. As she closed up her shop at the end of the day, she considered going to him. The shop wasn't the same, her flat wasn't the same, her life wasn't the same without him. She tried to reason that she missed him because he had been so present for so long, but she knew that wasn't true. It wasn't a roommate that she was missing, it was the man she loved.

When they saw each other again, it was two days later at Dolohov's trial. They kept their distance, but their eyes always found one another. She could feel his gray gaze on him as she testified, and wondered if he could feel hers as he sat on the witness stand. His voice captivated her as he stated the facts and detailed his part of the investigation. As he stepped down, he hesitated for a moment before walking towards her.

"It's almost over," he whispered, though Hermione wasn't sure if he said it to himself or her. Instead of a reply, she held his hand. Draco glanced down briefly to see their intertwined hands before looking ahead. With closing remarks done, the Wizengamot adjourned to deliberate. "You okay?" he asked her.

Looking up, Hermione nodded. "I'm looking forward to going home," she admitted. "If I never have to see the inside of this courtroom ever again, I'll be happy."

He couldn't help but agree. It was only five years earlier that he had sat where Dolohov was now, awaiting his own fate. "I might have gone into the wrong profession if I hoped to avoid this place," he joked.

"I could always use help at the shop," she offered. "You were a good stock boy."

Before he could reply, Harry and Ron approached them. Only Ron had the decency to look chagrined. "We wanted to apologize," he said, offering a friendly smile. "We should have told you everything instead of keeping you in the dark. I just...I'm sorry, Mione."

She looked between her two friends, and waited for Harry to say something, anything. Instead, he looked anywhere but at her. "It's fine, Ron," she replied. "I understand why you couldn't."

Nodding, Ron turned, ready to leave. A hand on his arm stopped him. "So, is this not over?" Harry wondered, staring at the couple's joined hands.

Draco tightened his hold on her hand. "Did you really think I would do as my father asked?" he retorted.

"No, but I figured lying to Hermione would put an end to this," Harry replied despite Ron's protests to return to their seats.

"I don't recall you being honest with me either," Hermione interjected. "And we're not doing this in public. I'd rather not be the morning headline."

Ron pulled Harry away, returning to their seats as the Wizengamot reconvened. Hermione held her breath and Draco's hand as a guilty verdict was rendered. The pair exhaled simultaneously, relieved that the ordeal was finally over. Letting go of his hand, Hermione rose, ready to leave. "Wait," Draco said as she began to walk away. "Could we talk?"

Nodding, she beckoned him to follow. They walked in silence, side by side, to the Atrium. From there, they took the floo to her flat, where they stood in uncomfortable silence as the seconds ticked by. "So, um, how have you been?" she asked when she could take the silence no longer.

"Not great," Draco admitted, sitting down on what had once been his bed. "My father is doing six months in Azkaban for attempted kidnapping. My mother watches me like a hawk, and has insisted I quit my job on more than one occasion. But I think the worst part is you being mad at me. You deserve time to think everything through, and I shouldn't bother you. I just really miss you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she wondered, curious rather accusatory.

Sighing, he shook his head. "Honestly? I don't know," he replied. "I guess I thought that if I didn't talk about it, it might not be real. There's no way I'd ever give you up, love. Is there any chance that you might believe me?"

Hermione sat down beside him. "I believe you," she said. "But only because I want to believe that you've changed. The last couple of months weren't all an act, right?"

"Not one bit of it," he confirmed. "Yeah, I hated the assignment when I first got it, and yes, I saw you only as a job. Being with you all the time, though, changed my mind. I want to make things right, Hermione. I just need to know that it's possible."

Tentatively, she reached for his hand. "It is," she assured him. "I'm not ready to lose you either."

"What about Potter and Weasley?" he wondered. "They didn't appear too happy to see us together at the trial."

His question was met with a careless shrug. "Ron seems more willing to accept our relationship than Harry does," she replied. "If this investigation has taught me anything, it's that Harry doesn't really give a damn about what I want unless it's something that makes him happy as well. After everything I've done for him, everything that's happened these past few months, I just want to be a little selfish and very happy."

"Do I make you happy?" he murmured.

The smallest hint of a smile appeared on her lips. "Yes, you do," she replied, leaning into him. "So, what do we do now?"

Sighing, Draco shook his head. "No idea," he admitted. "I know we made plans, but I understand if you want to hold off for the time being. Regaining your trust is more important to me than sharing a bathroom."

Hermione knew he was right. It wouldn't do to rush into their relationship again after she had been hurt. Though she hoped his kept secrets were confined only to the case, she needed time to rebuild the trust lost. "Maybe you're right," she agreed. "Do me a favor? Leave your floo open?"

The dark circles beneath her eyes were noticeable, and he wondered if she had slept at all since he had last seen her. "It's been open since we parted," he said. "I would lie awake at night, wondering if you'd come through. Maybe I should have told you, but I didn't want to get my hopes up that you'd use it. But it's open to you, any time you want to use it."


	17. Chapter 17

Happy Friday! Don't forget to check out the latest chapter of _What Is This Feeling?_!

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Chapter 17

Draco awoke the next morning to a warm body beside him. Hermione slept peacefully, long after the sun had come up. He laid still, fearful of waking her. Instead, he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, the twitches beneath her eyelids as she dreamt, and the glow cast upon her by the early morning sun. It was picturesque and perfect, and he hoped it would never end.

A small sigh passed her lips as Hermione moved closer. "Stop staring at me," she mumbled as her eyes opened.

"Be ugly," he retorted. "So, this was a pleasant surprise."

Sitting up, she stretched her back. "I've learned something very important this past week," she told him. "You've ruined me. I didn't get one good night's sleep without you."

"Missed me that much, eh?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

Hermione laid back down beside him. "That," she admitted, using the tip of her finger to trace patterns across Draco's chest, "and ffter the war, I had these horrible nightmares. I'd see things that weren't there. No place felt safe. After all that's happened, I started feeling that way again, but I knew you would keep me safe."

"I will," he vowed. "I always will."

She smiled as she eyed him tenderly. "I really do love you," she murmured, pressing her lips to his. Moving out of his arms, she sat astride his stomach and kissed his bare chest. "I want to be with you. Only you."

He sat up and met her mouth once more. "Stay with me," he whispered, his breath ghosting across her kiss-swollen lips. Hermione nodded. "No, I mean it. I know you have a life and a store and friends who haven't hurt you, but I can't lose you."

Worry knitted her brows. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised. "It's you and me, Draco. You gave me my time to think, and all I thought about was you. I'm not walking away."

"I don't want you to have to choose between your friends and me though," he cautioned.

"Harry's made it clear that I have to," she replied. Her fingers wound through the blond hairs at the nape of his neck. "The things he's done and said...it's not exactly behavior befitting a friend. If he really intends to make me pick, I hope he's not disappointed when I choose you."

Lying back down, Draco stared at the large tree outside his bedroom window. "It's not fair to make you do this," he muttered.

Hermione shrugged. "That's Harry," she replied, moving to his side. "Does this change things?"

He had no answer to give. Glad as he was to be her first choice, Draco didn't want her to have to give up anyone or anything for him. "Can you honestly say that you'd be alright with losing Potter, and maybe even the Weasleys if you stay with me?" he wondered.

Hurt by his question, Hermione vacated the bed, believing that he meant for her to pick her friends instead. "You asked me to stay," she said. "I fully understand what being with you means. The last month, all I've heard from the people I love are questions about doing the right thing, being with the right person. Please don't add to that, Draco. I'm not walking away from you."

Draco soon stood before her, her face cupped in his hands. "I just don't want you to have any regrets," he told her.

"When it comes to you, I don't have one regret," she replied. His eyebrows rose skeptically, as if to challenge her claim. "I don't," Hermione insisted. "I decided a long time ago that I wouldn't count regrets because I don't see the point in having them. So no, Draco, when it comes to us, there are no regrets. Let Harry feel guilty for letting go of a decade long friendship, but I won't."

Laughing, he kissed her softly. "Stubborn woman," he murmured as he led her back to bed. Back beneath the blankets, he held her close. "Still think you'd like to spend the rest of your life here in this bed with me?"

"You know, I think I would," she replied.

"So, our previous plans?" he inquired.

Hermione grinned. "We're definitely following through on them."

00000000

Ron stared at his friend as Harry worked. Try as he might to ignore him, Ron refused to leave. After several minutes of tense silence, Harry put down his quill and eyed the redhead. "You have to talk to her," Ron stated. "Make things right with Hermione."

"Why?" Harry demanded. "She doesn't care what I have to say. She's known Malfoy just as long as we have, and if she hasn't learned that he's the same git he was when we were eleven, that's her problem."

"And what if he's not?" Ron wondered. "What if she's seen something different in him? I don't like the guy anymore than you do, but this is Hermione we're talking about. She's smarter than the two of us combined. We'd both be dead without her."

Harry scoffed. He found it annoying how often Ron canonized their friend. Harry knew he still had feelings for her, feelings Hermione stopped reciprocating shortly after their relationship began. "I'd have thought you would want them apart too," he remarked.

Sighing, Ron shook his head. "I want her to be happy," he responded. "Clearly, Malfoy's figured out how to do that better than either one of us. I don't have to trust Malfoy, but I do trust Hermione. And so should you."

Without another word, Ron left the Head Auror's office. As right as Ron was, Harry had a penchant for stubbornness. For too long, he and Draco Malfoy had been at odds, and time never healed the wound cast when they were children. That didn't mean he wanted to lose Hermione though. Harry knew what needed to be done, but he was apprehensive. He feared that perhaps the bridge was too badly burnt to be repaired.

Stepping into his fireplace, Harry floo'd to the flat above the bookshop. Hermione, sorting books from her shelves, glanced up briefly before returning to her task. "What's going on?" Harry wondered.

"I'm packing," she replied. "Well, putting these into storage for now. Draco's moving in here until we find someplace bigger, and I thought he deserved some room for his books. The better question is what are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd give acting like an adult a try," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. Sitting down beside her, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I, um, I want to apologize for the way I've been acting. Whatever this is between you and Malfoy, I should trust you to make the right decision."

Hermione scowled. "Is Ron not speaking to you?" she guessed. Judging from the color now filling Harry's cheeks, she was right. "So, the possibility of losing Ron's friendship prompted you to apologize? That doesn't seem sincere to me."

Nodding, he admitted that she was right. His apology had far too many reasons to come off as false. "I know, Mione, but I'm trying."


	18. Chapter 18

I bought a curling iron, and either my sometimes curly hair doesn't want to be curlier or I have no idea how to use a curling iron. Any tips?

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Chapter 18

Draco entered the Aurors' offices with his letter of resignation in hand. It would delight Harry, as well as many of his colleagues, to know that he intended to quit. Harry's door was wide open, and he looked up as Draco approached. Without a word, he set the letter down and started to leave. He heard the rustle of paper before Harry stopped him from walking away. "You're really quitting?" he asked.

With a heavy sigh, Draco turned back to face him. "Yes, I am," he confirmed. "Frankly, we both know I'm not wanted here, and my heart isn't exactly in being an Auror anymore."

"Does this have anything to do with Hermione?" Harry inquired, setting down the letter. His silence spoke volumes. "She's not a fan of quitters, ya know. I can't imagine she's alright with this."

"She supports it," Draco countered. "Said she likes the idea of me being alive. Look, this isn't up for negotiation. Besides, you're the one who's been looking for an excuse to get rid of me."

Harry shook his head as he reread the letter. "So, what's the plan now?" he asked. "You're living at Hermione's. Surely what she makes in the store isn't enough to comfortably support the two of you."

"Don't worry about us," Draco retorted before attempting to leave once more. "By the way, if you see Ron, let him know that he left his Cannons jumper at our flat."

With a wave of his wand, Harry slammed the door shut. Draco spun to face him, glaring at his former supervisor. "Hate me all you want, Malfoy," he said. "No, I don't approve of this relationship. I don't think you're good enough for my best friend. However, I do care about Hermione, which is why I intend to keep my mouth shut for now. Just know that there will be consequences if you hurt her."

Draco scoffed, unafraid of the Boy Who Lived's idle threats. "Funny, isn't it?" he mused. "For so long you all thought of me as the enemy, but I'm the one your friends want to be around. I wonder if there's a lesson to be learned from all of this."

If looks could kill, Draco would be dead. "Get. Out," Harry said through clenched teeth.

Draco smirked, letting his words roll off his back as he finally left. Returning to his desk, he began to pack his personal belongings. A short time later, box in hand, he walked out of the Ministry to begin a new life. Reaching the exit, he spotted Ron, who waved to him.

"You're really leaving?" he asked. "Merlin, don't let my mother get wind of this. She'll be knocking down your mother's door to learn the secret to ending an Auror career."

Draco laughed as Ron followed him outside. "I doubt Potter would be happy to lose you," he replied. "As for me, I think he's crying tears of joy that I'm finally gone."

Ron frowned. Harry wasn't shy in his feelings for Draco, but they both knew Draco was a good Auror. Harry had even admitted it once or twice. "Harry's, uh, I don't know what's going on with him lately. Ever since this case started, he's been different. I know he worries about Hermione's safety, we both do, but this time it seems out of hand."

"I would never intentionally hurt her," Draco said. Ron assured him that he knew that. "I don't know how to prove that to Potter. Hell, I don't think Hermione knows. He came to see her, ya know. She said he gave her some half-assed apology and asked for a second chance. I don't know though, I don't think he's going to get it this time."

"Serves him right," Ron muttered as they walked to the bookshop. "So, you're really going to work for Hermione? You're sure that's a good plan?"

Draco nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "Safer than being an Auror," he remarked. "Unless she's in a mood. The witch threw a pencil at my head the other day when she incorrectly tallied the daily income. In her defense, I was purposely trying to distract her."

When the laughing pair entered the shop, Hermione looked up and greeted them with a smile. "Harry took the resignation well?" she asked, offering her boyfriend a kiss. Draco shrugged, wishing he had a real answer for her. "Well, it doesn't matter what he thinks. You don't have to work for him any longer."

"No, you have to work for her," Ron added. "That's infinitely more terrifying."

Hermione laughed as she slapped her friend's arm. "See - abuse every time," Draco observed.

"Yeah, but she's prettier than Harry," Ron added. "That's a plus."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione gave Ron a playful nudge toward the door, reminding him that he needed to return to work. There were few patrons in the shop, and so, Hermione didn't feel bad when she and Draco entered her office to talk in private. "So, tell me what really happened with Harry," she said.

Reluctantly, Draco shared their conversation, noting that the more he spoke, the deeper her frown grew. "I couldn't help it," he insisted. "I don't care that he's been a git to me since training. I expected that. It's the way he's treated you these past couple of months. It felt like this was my one opportunity to let him know how I really feel without repercussions. I'm sorry, love."

"It's fine," she replied. "It's done. Maybe now he'll realize that things have changed, and he either needs to adapt or decide that it's time to let go of friendships he no longer deems worthwhile. I'm tired of trying to reason with him. It's up to Harry now."

Sighing, he took her in his arms. "It shouldn't be this way," he muttered. "Potter's been like a brother to you. You shouldn't lose him over me."

"Maybe with a bit of time, he'll come around," she suggested. "And maybe, just maybe, if you were a bit nicer to him, he'd see that you really have changed. Look at Ron. He's just as stubborn, and he's warmed up to you."

"I bribed him with Quidditch tickets," Draco joked. Hermione smirked, attempting to hold back laughter, as she implored him to be serious. "I am being serious. I don't want to go to a Cannons game with Potter. Ron will be way more fun."

Hermione couldn't keep a smile off her face. "I really, really like you for giving Ron a chance," she told him as Draco kissed her. He sensed a "but", but Hermione assured him one wasn't coming. "That's good enough for me. Harry and I will work this out in our way, in our own time. It's okay with me if the two of you don't become friends."

"You know I'd try for you," he whispered as the distance between them shrunk and their lips met.


	19. Chapter 19

Who has two thumbs and is a ready for a 3 day weekend? This guy! Well, girl if you want to get technical. Happy Fourth of July!

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Chapter 19

Seated in a private box at the Chudley Cannons' stadium, Draco and Ron watched the game in silence. As they sipped butterbeer, Draco occasionally glanced at the man beside him. He was nervous. A very important question weighed on his mind, and it was a topic he wasn't entirely sure how to broach.

"You know I'm seeing someone," Ron commented, catching Draco's stare. "Quit undressing me with your eyes. Don't think I won't tell Mione."

Gray eyes quickly darted back to the field. "So, did you hear that Marcus Flint is in talks to play for the Cannons?" he asked.

The Quidditch talk continued for a few minutes longer, but Ron knew there was much more on Draco's mind. "As great as it would be to have a good Chaser, I can't help but feel like there's something else you want to tell me," Ron said.

Draco nodded, attempting to swallow his nerves. "I, um, I know we've moved pretty fast, but I want to propose," he began.

"To me? Oh, Draco, you shouldn't have!" Ron joked. "Seriously though, I am seeing someone."

"To Hermione," Draco clarified, rolling his eyes. "I want to propose to Hermione. It's just...yours is the only family she has left, and you're the only one who likes me. Anyhow, I want your blessing."

Ron's eyes widened. "Are...are you sure?" he asked. "I mean about my blessing. You don't really need it. You have it, I guess, but you don't really need it. Isn't that the kind of thing you ask a father?"

"Her father is dead," Draco reminded him. "I thought a brother-figure might be the next best thing."

Nodding, Ron looked out at the pitch as the quaffle was tossed through the Cannons' center ring. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "I just want to be sure that you understand what you're getting into. Because we both know how hard it is to break a marriage bond, and we both know that once you marry her, you become a part of the Weasley family. Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Draco laughed. "For her, I would do anything," he replied. "I'm sure I'm not the person anyone expected her to end up with, but I intend to make sure she gets everything she wants. And if she wants me to make nice with the Weasleys, I'd do it for her."

A red, questioning eyebrow rose. "Yeah? Would you make nice with Harry?" he challenged. "Because he married my sister, which actually makes him family. They might be on the outs now, but that won't last forever. They'll eventually make up, and this whole incident will be forgotten."

"Not by Hermione," Draco interrupted. "She went on a twenty minute rant the other night about a broomstick in third year. Somehow that was evidence that Potter is and always has been a git. We both know she hates it when anyone questions her decisions."

He wasn't wrong, Ron knew. "Sure you want to be married to someone like that?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," Draco said.

He returned home late as the game had gone on longer than he anticipated. Hermione was asleep on the sofa, despite the television's loud volume. After shutting the set off, he lifted her and carried her to their bedroom. Halfway there, she awoke, stirring in his arms. "You're home early," she murmured, placing her head on his shoulder. Draco chuckled before informing her that it was midnight. "Like I said," she mumbled.

Placing her on the bed, he took off her shoes and tossed them aside. "There's something I want to talk to you about, but if you're too tired, I can wait," he said, sitting down beside her. "It's not time sensitive, so I guess it can wait."

"So, you're not pregnant?" she teased, sitting up.

Smirking, he shook his head before running a nervous hand through his hair. "I, uh, there's something I've been thinking about," he began. "And I don't know if it's too soon, but I know how I feel about you and me and us. Anyhow, Ron and I were talking at the game, and he gave me his blessing, so what I'm trying to ask you is - will you marry me?"

Wide-eyed, Hermione sat up straighter. "Are...are you sure?" she asked. "You really want to marry me? It wasn't all that long ago that you thought I was an overbearing know-it-all. Plus, you've just gotten Harry out of your life. Marrying me invites him right back in."

Leaning forward, he kissed her. "If it meant being with you forever, I'd welcome Potter back with open arms," he assured her. "And I still think you're overbearing and too smart for your own good, but that's what I love about you. Don't apologize for it. And don't feel like you have to answer right now. I'll wait for you."

"So, you're on your death bed when I finally say yes, you'll marry me then?" she asked.

Draco laughed as their lips met once more. "I will, but I prefer to spend more than just my last few breaths with you as my wife," he replied. "I have a ring, you know. I thought about going the family heirloom route, but decided against it." He moved from the bed to the top drawer of his dresser. "I figured I'm ending enough Malfoy family traditions, one more won't hurt. Besides, who knows what kind of spells are on the family jewels."

Hermione stared at the emerald cut diamond set in platinum that he presented. When she nodded, he removed it from the box and began to place it on her finger. "It's beautiful," she murmured.

The ring halted at the first knuckle. "You still haven't given me an answer, ya know," he remarked as he began to pull the ring away. "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

Tears clouded her vision as she looked from the ring to the man she loved. "Yes, I will," she replied, using her free hand to bat away tears. The ring was now firmly in place on her finger. She pulled him to her, hands tangling his hair as they kissed. "I feel like we should thank Dolohov," she said when they finally pulled apart.

Draco scoffed. "For what?" he wondered.

"Getting us together," she replied. "If he hadn't been hellbent on killing me, the Ministry wouldn't have placed you here, we wouldn't have fallen in love, and I'd be sleeping alone tonight without a really sparkly ring on my finger."

"I'll work that into my toast," he joked as he slipped into bed beside her. "I guess the whole threat on your life wasn't all bad. Sure, nearly dying a few times had its drawbacks, but spending time with you sort of made up for that. Maybe this should have been my proposal speech."

Hermione relaxed against his side as she examined her new ring. "I thought it was perfect," she replied as her eyes closed.


	20. Chapter 20

I love when people ask dumb questions, and yes, there is such a thing as a dumb question. Today, I overheard this one - Lady 1:"Oh, I love your haircut!" Lady 2: "Thanks! I just had it done." Lady 1: "Is it shorter?" So many sarcastic replies rolled around in my mind, and it was a struggle to hold them back.

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Chapter 20

The Burrow buzzed with excitement as Hermione and a nervous Draco entered. It was his first foray into the Weasleys' world, and he worried that he might not make it out alive. Try as she might to reassure him that he would fine, Hermione had taken to calling herself the Widow Malfoy whenever his next anxiety attack reared its ugly head. Standing in the Weasleys' living room, she was sure another would soon come.

Ginny Weasley attempted to pull her away from her fiance, but Hermione held onto Draco. "We have a bit of an announcement," she said, hoping to quiet the large family. "Um, Draco's proposed."

Before she could continue, Ginny interjected. "Did you say yes?" she asked excitedly. "You could have the wedding here. You always said you loved the orchard. It would be the perfect place for a wedding. I'm thinking early autumn."

"Yes, I said yes," Hermione replied. "We haven't made any plans yet. Believe it or not, we've decided to take our time with this. We just wanted to let you all know."

Molly Weasley came forward. Her steps were hesitant as she approached the couple, but it wasn't long before Draco felt her arms wrap strongly around him. "Welcome to the family," she said softly as she pulled away.

"Thank you," Draco replied, wide eyed with shock, but touched by her kindness. He was quickly pulled away by Ron and introduced to the rest of the family.

Molly remained by Hermione's side. "Harry doesn't appear very happy," she commented.

Hermione shrugged. "That's his choice," she replied indifferently. "All that matters is that Draco and I are happy."

"I agree," Molly said with a loving, motherly smile. "And Ronald seems quite taken with him as well. A bit of competition?"

Hermione laughed as Harry approached them. "I like that they've become friends," she responded. "It gives me hope that I won't lose everyone by being with Draco."

"You won't," Harry assured her. Molly took her leave, needing to finish preparing lunch. Hermione eyed him skeptically, but let him continue. "We both know how I feel about Malfoy, but we also know how I feel about you. Since we were kids, you've been like a sister to me. We've always looked out for each other, and I may have taken it too far this time. I really am sorry, Hermione."

"Do you mean that this time?" she inquired, crossing her arms over her chest. Harry nodded contritely, and Hermione slowly began to relax. "I don't want to lose you. After everything we've been through, I can't lose you, Harry. Can you accept that Draco and I are going to be together no matter how much you dislike him?"

The smallest hint of a smile touched his lips as he nodded. "I promise to try," he said. "I figure if Ron can do it, I can too. As long as he treats you the way you deserve to be treated, I will support this relationship."

"I'm happy to hear that," she replied. "I want you to understand, though, that your feelings regarding my fiance will in no way change my opinion of him. The two of you don't need to be friends, and I don't expect change to happen overnight. Giving him a chance is all I ask."

Harry nodded as he hugged her. "I will," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "Now that that's settled, I think you should rescue him. He's been left alone with George too long."

Hermione laughed as she pulled away to find Draco. He seemed unharmed when she found him in the backyard with Ron and George. The three men were laughing as they discussed the Cannons' record. "Having fun?" she asked, joining them. He nodded as he held her close. "A little advice - don't take anything from George. It never ends well. I spent a month in fifth year removing feathers from my hair because of him."

Draco laughed, remembering the incident with the Weasleys' famous Canary Creams. He had used a few on his own housemates, particularly Pansy Parkinson. It had been a great source of amusement when the twins introduced their latest products to Hogwarts.

"Come on, Granger," George lamented. "Let me have a little fun. I only have one ear."

"That hasn't stopped you from crumbling up Puking Pastilles in my eggs," Ron pointed out.

"Or dissolving Nosebleed Nougats in my tea," Hermione added.

George held up his hands as Ron readied to offer another example. "Fine, you win. My ear has nothing to do with it," he surrendered. "But you have to admit our products are genius. We both know Harry agrees."

The Boy Who Lived joined the group outside. "Oh yeah, I loved that time I used your Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and Malfoy broke my nose," he commented sarcastically. "That was a wonderful way to start sixth year."

"Don't blame the product," Draco replied with a laugh. "We both know that eavesdropping gets you in trouble. Is it safe to assume you've stopped hiding on luggage racks?"

Harry smirked and assured the blond that he had learned his lesson. "And speaking of that broken nose, Ron, Luna is here," he informed his friend.

Ron ran into the house while Hermione and Draco watched incredulously. "That's who he's seeing?" Draco asked. Harry and George nodded in reply. "Here I thought he was making it up so I'd stop hitting on him. I didn't expect this."

George passed him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Trust me, mate, none of us did," he replied. "Loony Lovegood is the last girl I thought my little brother would date. Who knows? Maybe Mum will have another wedding to plan soon."

Harry and George entered the house, leaving the couple alone outside. "Don't listen to him. Molly isn't planning a thing for us," Hermione assured him. "Besides, Narcissa has already written to ask what date she should tell the caterers the ceremony will be."

"Great, two crazy mothers to deal with," he muttered. "Let's just run away and elope. I'm sure there's a nice beach somewhere. We'll get married with the sand between our toes."

Arms wound around his neck as Hermione placed a gentle kiss on his stubbled chin. "You're the only family your mother has. We can't leave her out of this," she insisted. "And if we can't leave out your family, we can't leave out mine. I do like the idea of a beach wedding though. I can't imagine you barefoot outside."

"I'd marry you in my underpants if it meant spending the rest of my life with you," he murmured against her lips.

"And you don't mind being around the Weasleys?" she asked.

Draco smiled. "I don't think I have a problem being a part of this family."


	21. Chapter 21

I know it's short, but what's wrong with short? I'm short! My height has nothing to do with anything except not being able to reach things, and I'm veering off course here. Thank you all so much for reading my story!

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Epilogue

"Happy three hour anniversary," Draco commented as he came up behind his wife. Hermione stood on the balcony of their hotel room, looking out at the rolling waves as the sun set.

Grinning, she turned in his arms and kissed her new husband. "Today was perfect," she told him. Three hours earlier, they had been married on the beach they now looked down upon. Surrounded by their families, the couple exchanged vows and rings, and were bonded for life by the minister. After the short ceremony, their guests entered the beach-side resort where the reception was held. After only a few hours of eating, mingling, and dancing, the newlyweds slipped away for some alone time. "Do you think they miss us?"

Draco shrugged. "Probably," he replied, "but it's our day. Is it not our prerogative to do as we please today?"

The new bride laughed. After a year and a half of planning, their wedding day had finally come. The couple had spent 18 months listening to Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy debate locations, colors, dresses, and food. The young couple allowed the mothers to have their input, but were quick to veto any decisions they didn't like. It had been the equivalent of pulling teeth when they pitched a beachside wedding. Narcissa complained about sand. Molly worried about the wind. But the engaged couple would hear no objections. They would have the wedding they wanted, and the mothers could deal with the rest of the details.

"So, if we wanted to stay up here for the rest of the night?" she asked, biting her bottom lip in a way she hoped was seductive.

"I would be very, very happy with that," he replied, his lips a hairsbreadth from her own. He had just moved her from the balcony to the bed when they heard a knock at the door. Groaning, he very reluctantly left his wife to answer it. "I'm going to kill you," he declared, seeing his best man on the other side. "Slowly, painfully kill you."

Ron laughed as if he had received the threat numerous times. "You're adorable when you say nice things like that," he retorted. "Mum wanted me to let you know that they're turning in for the night, and they'd like to see the two of you before they do."

Reluctantly, the newlyweds complied. They met outside the hotel's ballroom while Ron and Harry, who had served as Hermione's man of honor, stood by. Molly gushed over what a beautiful bride Hermione made, while making the couple promise to be safe on their honeymoon. When the Weasleys retired for the night, Narcissa approached. "I like her," she decided.

Draco laughed at what he considered an absurd comment. "You spent the last year arguing with her over flowers," he said. "But I'm not going to complain that you like Molly."

"You're not the only Malfoy to overcome your childhood prejudices," she remarked. "Give your mother a little credit."

He had to admit that he didn't expect his mother to change after decades of disliking the Weasley family, but he appreciated the effort she had made since the couple announced their engagement. The mothers happily worked together, and Narcissa mentioned that they already made plans for lunch the next week. It made him happy to know that his mother finally had a good, decent friend who didn't thrive on gossip and putdowns.

"I think it's great," he told her.

Hermione stepped forward to hug her new mother-in-law. "Thank you for everything," she murmured. "Really, without you and Molly, Draco would have attended the ceremony in his underwear. Thank you for making today possible."

"It was my pleasure," Narcissa replied, holding her new daughter close. "I appreciated the opportunity to be a part of it. I know our family hasn't always treated you well, but at least I now get the chance to spoil you as I would have done to my own daughter had I had one."

Draco rolled his eyes and attempted to halt his mother's plans. "Not jealous, I hope, that you're no longer the center of attention," Hermione joked, for which she earned a poke in the ribs.

"I'm suddenly envisioning my son sleeping on a sofa tonight," Narcissa quipped before saying goodnight.

Finally, they were alone and could return to their suite. "Your mother was wrong about you sleeping on the sofa tonight," Hermione commented as she kicked off the shoes she was desperate to remove hours ago. Though the pair had managed to go barefoot for their ceremony, the mothers insisted that they had to wear shoes in the ballroom. "In fact, I insist that I fall asleep beside you every night."

She worked open the buttons of his shirt, and Draco smiled. "I'm not going anywhere," he swore, kissing his wife with a loving tenderness that expressed exactly how he felt for her.

"Thank you for not getting bored of me once there was no threat to protect me from," she said, leading him towards the bed.

Draco smirked as he laid her down. "You've yet to give me a chance to be bored," he replied, resting his hand on her stomach. "And with this little one of the way, I doubt we'll ever be bored again."

The End


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